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Recollections of Olden Times 

ROWLAND Robinson of Narragansett and His Unfortu- 
nate Daughter. 

With Genealogies of the Robinson, Hazard, and Sweet 
Families of Rhode Island. 


"Shepherd Tom," 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by 


in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. D. (\ 


Pag'i 10, toiirtli line from hottom of page, for "great-grandfather" read 

Page 76, fourth line, "Rowland Robinson" should read Rowland Hazard. 

Page 76, thirteenth line, "vessel" should read pier. 

Page 148, " Mary, Rowland, Sarah, Ruth, numbered 9, 10, 11, 12, all 
children of John, the son of Rowland Robinson and consequently grand- 
children of the last named." 

Page 150, "Joscan" should be Toscun. 

Page 152, fifth line from bottom, •"eighth son" should be eighth child. 

Page 158, fourth line from bottom, "Minturn" is the son of Theodore and 
Mary Wright. 

Page 161, after fourth paragraph from the bottom, there should be added 
to the list of children of Benjamin Robinson: 6. Hannah who married 
the late Elisha Watson, of Wakefield, R. I. 7. Benjamin. 8. Philip 
Wanton, who died when a youth. 

Page 191, twentv-fourth line, •"ten" should read tuiu. 

Arms of the English Hassards or Hazards. Family Crest, the escallop shell 
proper, denoting pilgrimage to the Holy Shrine of St. Jago de Compostella, and 
the Palm, pilgrimage (Crusade) to Jerusalem. 


The following narrative and genealogies first appeared, simultaneously, 
in the " Newport Mercury" and " Narragansett Times," in the latter part 
of the year 1877 and early part of 1878. Their perusal having excited some 
interest among the public, it is thought advisable by some, including the un- 
dersigned, that the papers should be embodied in book form. 

Thomas K. Hazakd. 
Vaucluse, R. I., May 1, 1879. 

Table of Contents. 



Rowland Robinson. — Marquis Lafayette. — Extract from Mrs. Mary 
Hunter's Diary. — Governor Brenton. — Large Landed Estate in 
Narragansett. — Robert Hazard tlae great farmer. — Gov. John 
Potter. — Judge William Potter. — Jemima Wilkinson. — Hon. 
Elisha R. Potter. — Abolition of Slavery in Rhode Island. — 
Wealth of South Kingstown and high price of land in "olden 
times.'' ---------._ 9 


Old Time Costume. — Count Rochambeau.— Thomas Robinson of New- 
port and his daughter Mary. — William Gardiner. — Dr. Sylvester 
Gardiner. — Slaves from Guinea landed at Franklin (now South) 
Ferry. — Murder of Jackson by William Carter. — Tower Hill. - 19 


Dr. Job Sweet. — Rowland Robinson's Children. — The Unfortunate 
Hannah. — Sarah Robinson of Newport. — Mrs. Mary Hunter's 
Diary. ------...-.. 30 


Personal Beauty of Hannah Robinson. — Thomas Hornsby. — Madame 
Osborne.— Mr. Peter Simons. — Dr. William Bowen.— Col. Harry , 
Babcock. — Dr. Joshua Babcock. — Dr. Franklin. — John Case. — 
Queen of England and "Crazy Harry." - - - _ . 34 


Richard Smith.— Daniel E. Updike.— Lodowick Updike.— The great 
Indian Swamp Fight.— Canonchet, the Indian Chief.— King 
Tom.— Queen Esther.— King George the last King of the Narra- 
gansetts. — Hannah Robinson elopes and marries Peter Simons in 
Providence. — Simon and Ray Mumford. — Gov. William Robinson 
imports the Narragansett pacing horses from Andalusia. — Ridge 
Hill. ----------.. 



Mr. Simons takes his bride to Newport, and thence to Providence, to 
reside.— The "Unfortunate Hannah " deserted by her husband.— 
Her sickness and return home with her father. — Miss Belden. - 


The Sweet Families of "Natural Bone-setters."— John Hazard.— 
Alexander Gardiner, and Ephraim Hazard.— Mac Sparran Hill.— 
St. Paul's Church.— Pettaquamscutt Lake.— Gilbert Stuart.— 
George Rome.— Lawyers Bowne and Joe Aplin.— John Randolph 
of Roanoke. ------...__ 


Gen. Nathaniel Greene.— Colonel Whalley the regicide.— The Wil- 
lets of New York and Narragansett.— "Stout Jeffrey" Hazard.— 
Dr MacSparran.— Pettaquamscutt River.— George Hazard, fath- 
er of Thomas G.— The War Brig Orpheus.— Narragansett Pier.— 
Pacing Horses. ------__.. 


Pattaquamscutt Rock.— Great Snow-storms.— Christopher Champ- 
lin.— James Gould.— Otter Sheep.— Jeremiah Niles.— Captain 
Kidd.—"Nailor Tom" Hazard's "Blue-book." 


"Old Benny Rodman's Horsewhip."— Augustus Hazard of Enfield.— 
Continuance of the subject of Great Snow-storms. 


Great Snow-storms continued.— Great distress in Newport in 1780.— 
Samuel Elam.—Vaucluse.— Historic Trees.— David Buffum.— Dr. 
Abernethy. -----.--... 


September Gale of 1815.— William Knowles drowned.— Tower Hill 
first .settled.— Rowse J. Helme, C. J., Rowland Brown, Commo- 
dore Oliver Hazard Perry.— Thomas Hazard's testimony against 
slavery.— Moses Brown, John Woodman, Jeremiah Austin. 


Thomas Hazard, first settler.— Robert his son.— Thomas Hazard's 
Will.— Importation of the famous Arabian Stallion Snip.— Job 
Watson.— Mrs. Mary Hunter's Diary.- George Gibbs.— Governor 
Nichols.— Judge Stephen Hassard.— William Hunter. 

William T. Robinson.-Count Vernon.-Headquarters of Count Ro- 
chambeau.— Colonel Wanton.— Capt. Wallace.— Mrs. Mary Hun- 
ter's Diary.— Abigail and Anne Greene.— John Allen. 



Updike's History of the Narragansett Clmrch. — Old Time Customs. — 
ISTicliolas Gardiner. — "Dorothy Hollow." — ''The Crying Bog." — 
Gooseberry Island. — The French Hermit. — " The Palatine Ship." 119 


Tlie Unfortunate Hannah on MacSparran Hill. — Singular state of 
the atmosphere. — Mrs. Simons' nice sense of hearing. — Her con- 
ductors take her from the hill and proceed homeward. - - 127 


Pettaquamscutt Bridge. — Mrs. Simons arrives liome. — Dr. Robert 
Hazard. — Death and burial of the "Unfortunate Hannah." — 
Lines contributed by Miss Eliza Gibson Hazard. - _ . 136 


Genealogical Tables of the Robinson Family of Narragansett. - 146 

Genealogical Tables of the English and Irish Hazards, or Hassards. 165 

Genealogical Table of the Rhode Island Hazards. - - - - 181 


Historical Sketch and Genealogical Table of the Hazard Family 

of the Middle States. - . - - ..... 226 


iGenealogical Table of the Sweet Family, the Natural Bone-setters of 

Narragansett. ......--. . 265 

Recollections of Olden Times. 

Rowland Robinson of Narragansett and his 
Unfortunate Daughter. 

• C H A P T E R I. 

About one mile west of Narragansett Bay, and a half mile 
north of the old colonial highway that leads to and from the 
South Ferry, formerly called "Franklin Ferry," there now 
stands a gambrel-roofed house, occupied at present by Mr. 
Rowland F. Gardiner, and built by Rowland Robinson before 
the middle of the last century. Originally, the house including 
the negro quarters was one hundred and five feet in length, 
the stone foundations of the whole being now visible ; but 
the present structure measures but fifty-four feet front. The 
west front room on the ground floor is twenty feet square. 
This room is paneled and elaborately finished in the best 
architectural style of that day. The timber was cut on the 
estate, and is very large. In a recent visit to the premises 
I took especial note of the middle cross-beam that supports 
the chamber floor over the west front room. It is twenty 
feet long and twelve inches square, and is without support 
underneath its full length ; yet I could not perceive that, in 
the century and more that have passed since it was placed 
there, it had sagged or bent in the least degree. All the 


rooms in the house are finished aftei- tlie same costly pattern, 
and most of the fire-places ornamented with the old-fash- 
ioned Chinese tiles. The dining-room is twenty-two by 
twenty feet in dimensions. On the panel over the fire-place 
in a back room on the ground floor is a large, ancient paint- 
ing in which the artist has, in a more gi-aphic than finished 
style,sketched in oil a stag or deer hunt that occurred on 
the premises while the house was being built. The hunts- 
men are depicted fully accoutered in their sporting costumes, 
with high flap boots, and sitting, or rather standing very 
erect in their stirrups. 

The chamber over the west room was occupied for some 
time dnring the Revolutionary war by the Marquis La- 
fayette, and has ever since been designated l)y the successive 
occupants of the premises, "The Lafayette Chamber." In 
making some recent repairs two one-ounce bullets were found 
embedded in the plank in front of this room. Whether 
there is any historical significance attached to this incident, 
I have not learned. 

A large apaitment over the dining-room is called to this day 
the "Unfortunate Hannah's Chamber," from its having been 
occupied by a beautiful daughter of Mr. Robinson by that 
name, whose tragic stoiy is biiefly told in Updike's "Histo- 
ry of the Narragansett Church." The cupboard is still shown 
in which her lover used to retieat when the steps of her 
iiascible father were heard on the stairs. 

Rowland Robinson was born October 8, 1719, and was 
the eldest son of Gov. William Robinson, who owned and 
improved an estate, in the beginning of the eighteenth cen- 
tury, lying in Point Judith and extending west of the River 
Saucatucket, the Lidian for "dead man's biook," of several 
thousand acres, most of which had descended to him by 
inheritance from his gr6a±-g«tH4fatJier, Rowland Robinson, 
who came to Narragansett from England, and purchased 
a large tract of land directly from the Indians, on which he 
built not far from where the old Gov. William Robinson 


house, with the exception of the negro quartei's, is now 
standing, a little north of the pond in Point Judith called 
'' Kit's Pond." 

Updike, in his History of the Narragansett Church, p. 179, 
says: '' In Narragansett, resided the great landed aristoc- 
racy of the colony. Their plantations were large, some of 
them very extensive. Major Mason of Connecticut, in a 
letter to the commissioners of that colony, dated August 3, 
1670, persuading them to relinquish all further claim of 
jurisdiction over tiie Narragansett country, says: 'Those 
places that are any way considerable, are already taken up 
by several men, m farm and large tracts of land, some having 
five, six and ten square miles — yes and I suppose some have 
much more, which some of you or yours may see or feel here- 
after.' " 

If the following account, taken from Mrs. Mar} Hunter's 
diary, written some fifty years or more ago, is correct, it 
would seem that the first Robinson who came to Rhode Isl- 
and, though of an ancient and highly respected English 
family, was nevertheless in some res]>ects a self-made man. 

"■ Rowland Robinson the first I'an away from his parents 
and escaped on boaid a ship fiom England to the colonies, 
and bound himself to a carpenter. By good behavior he 
soon got advanced in business, and bought from the Indians 
large tracts of land on which he built, partly with his own 
hands, the homestead in Point Judith. He married a rich 
farmer's daughter, had many children, and from his eldest 
son, William, the Robinson family are descended." 

Wm. T. Robinson, son of Thomas and father of Mrs. 
Maiy Hunter, used to lelate an amusing anecdote of one of 
the eaily Robinsons who, it appears, had joined the Quaker 
Meeting. Governor Brenton had placed him on a farm belong- 
ing to him, situated on the south end of the island, adjacent 
to Brenton's Point, ajid stocked it largely with sheep. 
In a violent snow-storm, such as used to prevail more fre- 
quently than of late in New England — though I have known 


several in my day, perhaps equally destructive — ,these sheep 
having been left in an exposed position, were driven by the 
inclement tempest of wind and sleet off the rocks into the 
sea, where they perished. When Robinson communicated 
the loss of the sheep to Brenton, the Governor being a man 
of hasty temper, as most of the early settlers of Newport 
and King's — now Washington — counties in Rhode Island 
seem to have been, he flew into a towering rage with his 
tenant, and reproached hhn in unmeasured terms for the 
loss of the sheep through, as he charged, gross neglect. To 
all the abuse heaped upon him Robinson answered not a 
word, which submissiveness seemed only to increase Bren- 
ton's ire, who at last, in his frenzy, declared that Robinson 
should pay for the lost sheep, and bid him choose a man to 
arbitrate their value, while he chose another, which Brenton 
did on his part instanter. It was now Robinson's turn to 
choose his man . "Friend Brenton," said he, "I know of 
no one whom I should prefer to trust my interest v/ith than 
thou ! I think I will choose thee for my man." This was 
too much for the governor, who, after bursting into a fit of 
laughter, told his unmanageable tenant to go back to the 
farm and he would venture to trust one more flock of sheep 
to his care. 

The extent of Governor Robinson's farming operations may 
be guessed at from what my paternal grandmother, who was 
his daughter and a sister of Rowland by his first wife, used 
to sa}^ that after her father had given several large tracts of 
land to his sons, including the Governor Sprague, Little Neck 
and Narragansett Pier estates, he used to congratulate him- 
self upon having his parlor and kitchen family reduced in 
the winter season to seventy persons all told. 

Nor was Governor Robinson the only large land-holder in 
those days. Robert Hazard, my father's grandfather, im- 
proved, including large cattle ranges lying adjacent to Wor- 
den's Pond, several thousand acres, two thousand of which 
lay in the rich southern portion of Boston Neck and on the 


Tower Hill slope adjoining Govenioi- Robinson's estate on 
the north. M}'' father said that his grandfather used to ship 
to the West Indies about one hundred horses annually, all 
of which were raised on the farm he impioved, and that he 
employed twelve women, each with a young assistant, to 
manage his dairy, and sent occasionally two schooners from 
the South Ferry to the West Indies, laden entirely with pro- 
duce and live stock from his own farms. For a more de- 
tailed account of Robert Hazard's farming operations, see 
Updike's History, pages 179-181. 

U]3dike also states that Colonel Staunton owned one tract 
of land in Narragansett, four and a half miles long and two 
miles wide. Colonel Updike owned three thousand acres, 
lying adjacent to Wickford. Mr. Sewall owned all the land 
in Point Judith lying sout-h of Governor Robinson's estate, 
now constituting six largs farms, whilst the Champlins, 
Potters, Noyeses, Babcocks, Gardiners, Perrys, Browns, 
Nileses, Brentons, and many others, owned and occupied 
large landed properties. 

The Champlin estate lay for the most part in Charlestown, 
and I can remember when the old family mansion-house was 
in pretty good repair, tind have traced the lines of the race- 
course, lying on the plain south of the house toward the sea, 
where the old-time gentry used to prove the speed of the 
horses that were reared on their own estates. 

Farther still to the east lay the Colonel Staunton estate, the 
manor-house of which, situated on the old post-road, I thiiik 
may yet be standing.. 

Still farther to the east used to stand, since my recollec- 
tion, what was called the "Old Hull House," being one of 
the first six houses that were built by the early settlers of 
Narragansett between Franklin Ferry on the east and Paw- 
catuck river, which made the western boundary of the 
country of the once powerful Indian tribe of Narragansetts. 
It was in the parlor of this house that the first murder in 
Narragansett was perpetrated, under the following circum- 


stances. A daughter of the host had been married during 
the day, and whilst in the evening the friends were celebrat- 
ing her wedding, a rejected lover approached in the dark a 
window where the newly married couple stood conversing, 
and, placing the muzzle of his gun within a few feet of his 
victim, sent a bullet through her heart. 

Still farther to the east, on the south side of the old post- 
road, stood the old mansion of Judge Samuel Perry, who, 
since my memory, was held to be the largest land-holder in 
Southern Rhode Island. It was from this family that Com- 
modore Oliver Hazard Perry descended, he having been 
named after his grandfather, Oliver Hazard, the fourth in 
degree from the first settler, Thomas Hazard. 

Yet still farther to the east, used to stand beside the ''Potter 
Pond," on the old post-road, the Governor John Potter honsct 
which was removed some score or two years ago by the late 
James and John — Jimmy and John — Sherman,w ho lived and 
died in the old mansion-house, which still stands near the 
west bank of Saucatucket river, one mile or more north of 
Peacedale. The Governor John Potter house was built and 
finished throughout in a really palatial style, as I can well 
remember. The stone steps leading to the front door were 
circular in form, and very lofty. The ceilings of the lower 
rooms were nearly or quite twice the ordinary height. On 
the panel over the fire-place in a chamber ][ used to observe 
a full-length portrait of Governor Potter's daughter, which 
was said to have been painted by an Italian artist whom he 
had employed to embellish the walls o£ his house. 

Tradition used to say, that, taking advantage of the fath- 
er's somewhat prolonged absence on a certain occasion, the 
pei-fidious Italian painted himself kneeling at the feet of the 
charming Miss Potter. This, however, gave such offence to 
the irate old gentleman, thtit immediately upon his discovery 
of what had been done in his absence he drove the poor 
artist from his house, and afterwards employed another to 
expunge the kneeling figure. The lovers, however, were 


not thus to be separated, and shortl}^ after Miss Potter eloped 
from the paiental roof and was united in wedlock with the 
fascinating stranger. 

The late Daniel E. Updike, of East Greenwich, who was 
a perfect gazetteer in old time recollections and anecdotes, 
used to tell a great deal of "Old Booca Chicca" John Potter, 
who, I have since been told, lived on Little Rest Hill. Were 
it not for this fact, I should think the nickname might be a 
coi'ruption of the Italian word Boccaccia,, signifying "ugly 
mouth," bestowed upon the old gentleman by his vindicitive 
son-in-law. At any rate, the coincidence js rather singular. 

About one mile north of the village of "Little Rest,"now 
Kingston, used to stand, since my recollection, the fine old 
mansion of Judge William Potter, who owned a large land- 
ed estate adjoining, hi about the year 1780, Judge Potter 
became a devoted follower of the celebrated Jemima Wil- 
kinson, and, to accommodate herself and adherents, "he 
built a large addition to his already spacious mansion, con- 
taiidng fourteen rooms and bedrooms, vi^ith suitable fire- 
places." It was probably from this cause that the house 
used to be popularly called "The Old Abbey," partly on ac- 
count of its spaciousness, and partly from the character of 
its occupants. 

Updike, in his history of the Narragansett Church, page 
235, says,"that in consequence of his devotion to this art- 
ful woman, Judge Potter was compelled to mortgage his 
estate ; and finding it impossible to redeem it in its deterio- 
rated condition, he finally, in 1807, sold the remainder of his 
interest in it and settled in Genesee. 

"The late Hon. Elisha R. Potter purchased the homestead, 
but the elegant garden, with parterres, borders, shrubbery, 
summer-house, fruit orchard, his ancient mansion, with the 
high and costly fences, outhouses and cookery establish- 
ment, and the more recent erections for the accommodation 
and gratification of the priestess of his devotions, were in 
ruins, and, within a few years, the whole buildings have been 


removed." To this account, I may add in parenthesis, that 
a somewhat similar fate as attended the Potter estates has 
fallen on score upon score of others that were occupied by 
the gentry of the olden time. 

A stranger now visiting Narragansett and observing the 
unthi'ifty and worn-out appeaiance of most of the farm-houses 
and lands, the latter to a great extent disfigured with dilapi- 
dated walls and loose boulders and cobble-stones, and fast 
being overrun with briers and bushes, could hardly believe 
that scarcely a centurj^ ago this beautiful, though now deso- 
late-looking, farming country, teemed with a superabundance 
of dairy and other agricultural products, and was studded 
throughout with princely mansions, a few skeleton specimens 
of which only are now left standing. 

As Updike in his History narrates, the original owners and 
occupants of the soil of Narragansett were for the most part 
high-toned, highly cultured English country-gentlemen, who, 
with their accomplished and carefully educated families, 
constitiited a social fiaternity which was certainly not sur- 
passed in polite culture, refinement and hospitality in the 
British American colonies. This fascinating social structure 
was, however, based upon and sustained by the unrequited 
toil of the African race, and has been visited with the blight 
that always, sooner or later, follows in the foot-prints of 
human slavery. 

In an address delivered by him before the Rhode Island 
Historical Society, February 19, 1851, the Hon. Elisha R. 
. Potter said, " All along the belt of land adjoining the west 
side of Narragansett Bay, the country, generally productive, 
was owned in large plantations by wealthy proprietors, who 
resided on and cultivated their land. They had the cultiva- 
tion which would naturally result from ft life of leisure, from 
intercourse with each other and with the best informed men 
of the colony, and from the possession of private libraries 
for that day large and extensive." 

Says Updike, p. 184, "The gentlemen of ancient Narragan- 


sett were well informed, and possessed of intellectual taste, 
riie remains of these libraries and paintings would be suffi- 
3ient testimonials if other sources of information were de- 
fective. Doctor Babcock, Colonel Staunton, Judge Helme, 
Captain Jones, Colonel Potter, Colonel Willet, Colonel 
Robert Brown, the Hazards, Captain Silas Brown, the Bren- 
bons, owned valuable libraries. Doctor McSparran, Doctor 
Fayerweather, Colonel Updike, and Matthew Robinson pos- 
sessed rich collections for that day in classical and English 

In alluding to the subject of slavery. Judge Potter, in his 
address, said, "From the nature of the climate, the expense 
3f supporting slaves was greater than in more southern lat- 
itudes, and public opinion would not sanction overwork or 
ill-treatment. TJie children of their owners were brought up 
in leisure, with little acquaintance with any profession or 
business, and when, in the course of time, slavery was abol- 
ished and they were brought into contact with men educated 
to labor and self-dependence, the habits, they had acquired 
Prom slavery proved the ruin of most of them, and their 
property was encumbered and passed into other hands. 

''The equal division of property upon the death of the 
parent contributed to the breaking up of these large plan- 
tations, and probably contributed also to the abolition of 
slavery itself. Until 1770, the eldest son inherited, by law. 
the whole estate of a person dying without a will ; and after 
that time until 1792, he was entitled to a double portion. 
But public opinion and the common sense of right were 
stronger than the law ; and except in a very few cases 
property was equally divided by will. And so strong was 
this feeling that in many cases where the eldest son, for 
want of a will, became entitled to the whole, he voluntarily 
gave up his legal rights, and admitted the other children to 
a share in the estate. 

"The abolition of slavery [in Rhode Island] was gradual. 
In 1774, the importation of slaves was prohibited, and every 


slave brought into the coloii}^ was declared free. Large 
numbers of them joined our Revolutionary army, and were 
declared free on enlisting. They were among the best of 
the American troops, and rendered efficient service in the 
war, and finally in 1784, all children of slaves, born after 
that year were declared free." 

It is an historical fact that the first regularly organized 
body of American colored troops that ever engaged in battle, 
was during the Revolutionary war under General Sullivan in 
Portsmouth, Rhode Island, where they bravely withstood the 
charge of British troops and more than once repulsed them. 
(See Hon. S. G. Arnold's Centennial Address, 1878.) 

Even at a time to which my memory extends, when dairy 
products, the staples of Narragansett, were less than half 
the price they now are, farming lauds in South Kingstown 
sold for twice the sum that can now be obtained for them. 
The Gov. George Brown farm, containing nearly four hun- 
dred acres, which formerly constituted one of the most 
eligible tracts of the Hazards' Boston Neck estates, has been 
recently sold, as I am told, after long advertisement, for less 
than ten thousand dollars ; and yet I have heard my father 
say that his ancestors paid in early colonial times as high as 
sixty dollars per acre for land in the same vicinity. 

I well remember when the late Elisha Watson, Esq., more 
than fifty years ago, purchased the farm lying north of 
Governor Brown, containing about three hundred and thirty 
acres, for which he paid in coin seventeen thousand dollars. 

Arnold says, in his History of Rhode Island, that so late 
as 1780, "South Kingstown was by far the wealthiest town 
in the State, paying double the taxes assigned to Newport, 
and one-third more than Providence." 


Rowland Robinson, though perhaps a little too much after 
the brusk order of Fielding's "Squire Western," was a fair 
specimen, in temper and manners, and a perfect beau ideal, 
in costume, presence* and person, of the old-time country 
gentlemen who constituted the semi-feudal aristocracy of 
Narragansett. In person he was portly, tall and erect. 
His features were Roman, slightly tempered with the 
Grecian type. His clear blonde complexion, inclining to red, 
and undulating brown hair, worn in a cue behind, attested 
his Saxon descent. When in full dress Mr. Robinson gener- 
ally wore a dark silk velvet or brown broadcloth coat, light 
yellow plush waistcoat with deep pockets and wide flaps 
resting partly on the hips, short violet colored velvet breeches 
buckled at the knee, nicely polished white-top boots, or sil- 
ver buckled shoes, fine cambric shirt profusely ruffled and 
plaited at the bosom and wrists, with white silk neck-tie 
to match ; the whole surmounted and set off by a looped-up, 
triangular hat on his head and a stout gold-headed cane in 
his hand. 

I have heard it said by persons acquainted with Revolu- 
tionary data, that such was the admiration inspired by the 
fine appearance and courtly bearing of Rowland Robinson, 
though then far beyond the prime of manhood, who occasion- 
ally came to his brother Thomas Robinson's house in New- 
port, where Count Rochambeau, commander of the French 
land-forces, resided for some time as a guest, that many of the 
count's officers sought introductory letters to Mr, Robinson, 
that they might obtain access to and share in the hospital- 


ities of his home in Narragansett. To what extent Mr. Rob- 
inson's beautiful and accomplished daughter, then deceased, 
might have contributed as a further, element of attraction 
had they seen her when in the zenith of her glory, to the 
proverbially gallant and liglit-o-love Frenchmen, can only be 
surmised. I do, however, know that a fair cousin of Han- 
nah's, Mary by name, was sent to Narragansett and placed 
by her parents in the care of her uncle and aunt (my grand- 
parents), that the lovely maiden might be removed from the 
society of the numerous young French officers, one of whom, 
under the cloak of calling at her father's house to see his 
general. Count Rochambeau, had nearly succeeded through 
his blandishments in pursuading the little Quaker beauty to 
exchange her drab bonnet for a Parisian hat and become his 
bride, before the alarming plot was discovered and its fur- 
ther denouement arrested bj' keeping the lovers separated 
until his "most Christian Majesty's" land-forces took their 
final departure from Newport. 

Thomas Robinson, of Newport, the father of Mary, the 
Quaker beauty, and his brother-in-law, Thomas Hazard, of 
Narragansett (my grandfather), were two of the earliest, as 
well as the most active and efficient, advocates for the abo- 
lition, not only of the slave trade but of slavery in any form 
in the British colonies. In Thomas Robinson, the wronged 
and oppressed, whether white or black, were ever sure to 
find a friend, and I have heard my father and others narrate 
deeds of daring performed by the Quaker philanthropist in 
defense of outraged humanity, truly heroic. 

On one occasion, learning that a negro had been abducted 
for the purpose of being sold into slavery, and was then on 
board a vessel in Newport Harbor just about to sail for the 
West Indies, Mr. Robinson, accompanied by only one man, 
proceeded in a row-boat to the vessel, which he boarded, and 
demanded of its ruffian captain that the man should be given 
up to him. This, after torrents of foul oaths and threaten- 
ings, the pirate was finally compelled to do, although Mr. 


Robinson had no legal warrant with which to enforce his 
determined demand. 

Nor did his sympathetic nature manifest itself in one di- 
rection only. I have heard '■' old Thomas Goddard " — that 
prince among his peers and gentleman by natural riglit — say 
that he had known Thomas Robinson to come to his house 
early in the morning, when the weather had suddenly be- 
come stormy and cold, and hand to him thirty dollars or 
more at one time, with directions to spend it all in furnish- 
ing wood to such poor families as he might find in need ; 
and this, too, although his own income was quite limited. 

Though irritable and passionate beyond measure or reason 
when crossed or opposed, Rowland Robinson's nature seemed 
wholly devoid of malice and as compassionate and full of 
tenderness when not angered as any woman's. When quite 
young I used to hear many anecdotes told illustrative of 
these traits in his character, some of which I will narrate. 

In the year 1741, Mr. Robinson married Anstis Gardiner, 
daughter of Colonel John Gardiner who lived in a house yet 
standing on the old family estate a few furlongs south of the 
South Ferry, in Boston Neck. Dr. Sylvester Gardiner, 
of Boston, the ancestor of the Gardiners of Maine, was a 
son of William (grandfather to Anstis), and was born in the 
house before mentioned. Sylvester's constitution being frail, 
his father sent him to Boston to be educated as a physician, 
and finally to England and France, where he remained for 
eight years under the medical instruction of the most distin- 
guished practitioners of the healing art. (See Updike's 
History of the Narragansett Church.) 

Previous to establishing his household Mr. Robinson en- 
gaged with others of his friends in sending a vessel from 
Franklin Ferry to the Guinea coast, for slaves, out of his por- 
tion of which he proposed to select most of his domestic 
servants and farming hands and dispose of the remainder by 
sale, as was the custom in those days. Up to the time of the 
return of the vessel — such was the force of education and 
habit — the cruelty and injustice involved in the slave-trade 


seemed never to have entered Mr. Robinson's mind, but now 
when he saw the forlorn, woe-begone looking men and wo- 
men disembarking, some of them too feeble to stand alone, 
the enormity of his offense against humanity presented it- 
self so vividly to his susceptible mind, that he wept like a 
child, nor would he consent that a single slave that fell to 
his share — twenty-eight in all — should be sold, but took them 
all to his own house where, though held in servitude, they 
were kindly cared for. 

I have heard it said by old people that these Africans ar- 
rived at Mr. Robinson's at a season of the year when rye 
was fit for harvest ; that he had a large field of this grain on 
the east side of his farm which was bounded on Narragan- 
sett Bay ; and that not being provided with a sufficient 
quantity of sickles to supply all the men, a part were set to 
work furnished with case-knives for want of better imple- 
ments with which to gather the grain into sheaves. 

Among the African slaves imported by Mr. Robinson was 
a woman who after her arrival was called by the name of 
Abigail. Abigail became in time so pleased with her Nar- 
ragansett home, that she solicited and obtained the consent 
of her master to return to Guinea for the purpose of bring- 
ing to Narragansett her only son. Mr. Atmore Robinson, of 
Wakefield, had at one time in his possession the account- 
books of old Rowland Robinson, containing the expenses for 
outfit and passage of Abigail on board a slave-ship to Afri- 
ca and return with her son. In this schedule the articles 
deemed by Mr. Robinson essential to their comfort while on 
board ship are minutely inventoried. The entries in the 
book include table-linen, bedding, cooking utensils, dishes, 
spoons, knives and forks, etc., etc. Abigail successfully ac- 
complished her mission, and returned in safety with her son, 
who was thereupon domesticated into Mr. Robinson's family. 

Rowland Robinson held many responsible positions under 
both the colonial and state governments ; and among others 
that of sheriff of Kings county. 


Sometime during the winter of 1741, two travelers stop- 
ped late in the afternoon at the Jionse of a widow Nash, who 
lived in one of the six old houses before alluded to, which 
I think is yet standing near a small rivulet on the east side 
of the old post-road, about one mile from Dockray's corner. 
Mrs. Nash had the kindness to dress their hair, and playful- 
ly remarked to the smaller of the two whilst so engag- 
ed, that if he was murdered she could identify his person 
by a round black lock of hair that marked his head. 

About sunset the two men proceeded on their journey with 
the avowed intention of reaching Franklin Ferry that night 
and passing over to Newport in the morning. 

It subsequently came to light that one of the men, whose 
name was Jackson, had started from Virginia with a horse 
load of deer-skins which he intended to convey to Boston, 
and that he was joined on the way by a Captain William 
Carter, an old privateersman of Newport, Rhode Island, who 
had been shipwrecked somewhere on the coast south of the 
Chesapeake, and was making his way home on foot. After 
leaving Mrs. Nash's, and when passing over the southern por- 
tion of Tower Hill in the evening, it also appeared that Carter 
knocked Jackson from his horse by hitting him on the back 
of the head with a stone. Jackson, however, recovered him- 
self and ran to an old uninhabited house near by — which 
was the only semblance of a habitation within a mile and 
more of the spot — where he was pursued and beaten to death 
by Carter, who then proceeded on his way with Jackson's 
horse and pack, having previously dragged his victim nearly 
a mile down the hill to a salt water estuary called Petta- 
quamscutt Cove, and shoved the corpse under the ice, from 
whence it was fished up some days after by a man whilst jab- 
bing for eels with a spear and identified by Mrs. Nash as the 
stranger with the black spot on his head, to whom she had 
unconsciously spoken so ominously. 

The place where Jackson was first knocked down by Car- 
ter is still marked by a stone at the base of the road wall 


directly west of the exact spot, with the figures •4741"' eii- 
graveu on it. This stone is not far from the junction of 
the road and the north line of the lot on which the late Nich- 
olas Austin some years ago erected a house on the very same 
site where the ruiiis of the old ''Carter and Jackson chimney" 
since my remembrance stood. 

This monument, in commemoration of the murder, is sit- 
uated a few rods south of the print of the horseshoe made in 
a stone, as tradition said, by the Devil, who left his home 
among the Massachusetts Puritans in Cotton Mather times, 
in pursuit of an old Indian squaw, who, after honestly for- 
feiting to him her soul, meanly attempted to escape out of 
her sable creditor's own proper jurisdiction into Rhode Is- 
land, just before the penalty became due. 

The Devil's first step can now be traced by the print of a 
giant foot — called to this day ''the devil's foot" — in a rock 
situated in the old post-road, some half way between East 
Greenwich and Wickford, from whence he struck next 
on Chimney Hill, having previously, in order to disguise his 
route, caused his cloven foot to be shod with an old horse- 
shoe. From this point the Devil landed at the next stride 
on Block Island, where he captured his victim, and seizing 
her by the hair of the head, delivered her into the hands of 
his Puritan children in Boston to be shipped to the Barba- 
does and exchanged for rum and sugar on his account. 

Rowland Robinson, who was sheriff of Kings (now Wash- 
ington) county, at the time of the murder, arrested Carter 
on the "Point," in Newport, where he found him at his sis- 
ter's, holding her child on his knee, and without aid brought 
the criminal, who was a remarkably powerful and desperate- 
ly resolute man, over both the ferries and lodged him in jail 
at Tower Hill, which was the county seat, whence he was 
taken, tried, convicted and condemned, and shortly after 
hanged in gibbet at the eastern foot of Tower Hill, on what 
is now called the "training lot," lying between the highway 
leading to the South Ferry and Pettaquamscutt river. 


When I was a boy I used to sit in the kitchen chimney- 
corner and listen, with my hair on end, to "Uncle Sci" and 
other old negroes as they told how scared they used to be 
when they rode by of a dark night and heard the chains 
creaking in the wind, and ever and anon one of Carter's bones 
fall cajunk to the ground. 

Whilst on the way from the ferry to the jail, a distance 
of four miles, Carter, who was walking, showed signs of 
weariness; upon observing which Sheriff Robinson, who rode 
a powerful black horse, after loosing the bonds of his prison- 
er, made him mount and ride on the crupper behind him. 

My father was named for his maternal uncle, Rowland 
Robinson, who, after the death of his wife and children, be- 
queathed to him a large part of his landed property, which, 
under time-honored semi-feudal usage, rendered it morally 
incumbent on him to make comfortable provision for the 
support of the superannuated negroes and other dependents 
who had become domiciled on his deceased uncle's estate. 
One of these, an old negro, by the name of Cuddymonk, used 
to occupy a few acres of land and a small house of my father's, 
that stood on the pleasant promontory that projects from 
the west side of the Wakefield mill pond, a little north of 
the dam. 

It used to be told that Cuddy once raised the earliest pota- 
toes that were ever dug from the ground in South Kingstown. 
The old man had just finished planting ojne day when a friend 
chanced to call unexpectedly, and Cuddy was obliged to dig 
up his newly-planted potatoes to furnish his guest with a 

Cuddymonk was quite a philosopher in his way, and his 
ideas on the abstruse questions of finance and political econo- 
my might well be favorably compared with some of the the- 
ories that have been broached of late, on the floor of Congress, 
by members who stand high in the estimation of a majority 
of their constituents. 

Cuddy used to fatten yearly two pigs on corn that he 


bought, the pork from one of which he cured for his own 
use, whilst he sold the other. In making up his accounts 
and finding that the money received for his pig scarcely paid 
the cost of the corn it had consumed, Cuddy used to remark 
that " times would never be good in dis country, till corn 
was pistareen (20 cents) a bushel, and pork pistareen a 

Another old retainer (of Welsh descent) who had lived 
from boyhood with Mr. Robinson and claimed to have been 
his head farmer, by the name of Benjamin Nichols, also 
occupied a tenement of my father's for many years. I knew 
the old man well, and used, some sixty years ago, to like very 
much to talk with him about "old times." Let the subject 
commenced with be what it might, it was pretty sure to run 
into some anecdote or relation on his part connected with 
" old Rowland Robinson," whose memory he fairly idolized. 
Many of the stories he used to tell, like the following, strik- 
ingly illustrated the peculiarities of Mr. Robinson's hasty 
and undisciplined, but yet kindly, nature. 

Mr. Robinson had furnished an old Guinea negro that he 
imported, named Steppany, who was a notorious thief, with 
a little home some miles away. Steppany fell sick one time, 
and sent his boy to his old master. The boy happened to 
come about noonday, when Mr. Robinson and his work peo- 
ple were going home from the field. Noticing the boy in the 
company behind him, the old gentleman asked Nichols who 
he was, and was told it was Steppany's boy, who had come 
to tell him that his father was sick. Upon this Mr. Robin- 
son turned to the boy and said, excitedly, " Boy ! what 
makes your father such a thief?" and, as he walked along, 
continued to berate Steppany most vehemently. After a 
little time, looking over his shoulder and not seeing the boy, 
Mr. Robinson hastily inquired where he was, and was told 
by Nichols that he had frightened him so that he had taken 
to his heels and run away ! " Run quick and catch him, 
Benjamin !" cried Mr. Robinson. Nichols accordingly start- 


ed, but the boy seeing himself pursued only ran the faster 
and got clear away. 

The same afternoon a horse was laden with necessaries 
and sent by Mr. Robinson's body servant, Prince, to the 
relief of the " thief,'" by his old master. 

This boy was afterwards killed by a stroke of lightning. 
Mr. Robinson lost no time, after being apprised of the fact, 
in going to see Steppany. On his arrival at the old negro's 
house he found him sitting beside the body of his child and 
looking very glum. On Mr. Robinson offering some words 
of condolence, Steppany gruffly said, " Yes, massa ! s'pose 
God ormighty tink he do some big ting when he kill dat 
little boy," adding defiantly, " nex' time let him try his 
thunder on ole nigger !" 

Another thief, by the name of Jerry, lived in a small tene- 
ment of Mr. Robinson's, for whom he had worked as a farm- 
hand a great many years. Mr. Robinson kept a large flock 
of sheep, from which Jerry used occasionally to take one b}' 
night for his family's use. Against these proceedings of his 
old farm servant Mr. Robinson had made no decided protest 
until in one of his sheep-stealing expeditions Jerry accident- 
ally got hold of a fine English ram which Mr. Robinson had 
recently imported and, without the knowledge of the depre- 
dator, turned in with his flock. One morning Nichols dis- 
covered that this ram was missing. On informing Mr. 
Robinson of the fact, the old gentleman flew into a frenzied 
rage and without hesitation declared that the rascally thief 
Jerry must have stolen it, and ordering his horse he rode at 
once to the delinquent's house. Jerry was cutting wood at 
the door, but espying Mr. Robinson hastily approaching in 
the distance he slipped into the house and hid beneath a bed. 
When the thundering rap of Mr. Robinson's heavy cane was 
heard on the door it was tardily opened by Jerry's wife, who, 
in answer to his angry demands to see the " rascally thief," 
told him that her husband had gone fishing '" to get some- 
thing for his children's dinner." This the exasperated old 


gentleman knew to be false, as he had got a glimpse of Jerry 
just as he was entering the door on his approach, and more- 
over readily divined by the odor that reached him through 
a broken window, that a portion of his English ram was at 
that moment in process of being cooked. Amidst Mr. Robin- 
son's loud and angry threatenings that he would cane the 
•'rascally thief" to death, Jerry was finally forced to show 
himself at the door, when, raising his cane aloft, as he sat on 
his horse, the irate old gentleman roared at the top of his 
voice, " Come here, you rascally thief, while I break every 
bone in your body for stealing my English ram !" The 
trembling culprit knew it would naught avail to deny the 
main fact, and sought to palliate his offense by alleging that 
owing to the darkness of the night he did not discover, until 
he came to dress the mutton, that he had made a mistake in 
catching the ram under the supposition that it was " a big 
wether sheep." To the hypocritical old sinner's entreaties 
for mercy Jerry's wife joined her tearful appeals, aided by 
some half-dozen, ragged, whimpering children, that she brought 
forward to the rescue, who, if her asseverations could be 
relied upon, had been for the week past suffering from sheer 
starvation. Altogether, the aggregate forces were too much 
for Mr. Robinson's placable and compassionate, though un- 
trained and fickle, nature to resist, and after striving in vain 
to maintain his angry deportment he was at length forced to 
capitulate and turn away hastily — lest the gathering moisture 
in his eyes should be observed — with the semi-angrily ex- 
pressed caution and threat that if Jerry did not want every 
bone in his old body broken, he had better be careful in 
future how he mistook his " English ram for a wether sheep.'-' 
Old Benjamin Nichols used to relate that on another 
occasion, whilst Mr. Robinson was assisting Jerry in driving 
some young cattle through an open bar-way between two of 
the adjoining famous six "Smith meadows," that are bound- 
ed northerly on the South Ferry road and easterly on the 
Ferry estate, the old gentleman became very much excited 


because of the persistence of the cattle in refusing to leave 
the lot they were in — as experienced farmers are aware is 
often their most provoking wont under similar circumstances. 
Again and again, the cattle were driven up to the bar-way, 
and just as they seemed in the act of passing quietly through 
would suddenly start back and race away across the field. 
On the last of these occasions Mr. Robinson, who was on 
horseback, in an excessively angry freak, threw his cane, 
missed the steer at which the blow was aimed, and broke 
Jerry's leg short off below the knee. Upon thi^ Mr. Robin- 
son's angry passion was at once succeeded by one of a different 
mood. Jerry was tenderly conveyed home, a messenger 
having been previously dispatched in haste to Point Judith 
to obtain the immediate services of old Job Sweet, who, with 
his son Jonathan and his grandsons Job and William of 
Sugar Loaf Hill in South Kingstown, were never known to 
fail in replacing and healing a fractured or dislocated bone 
out of the thousands or tens of thousands they had operated 
upon, save in one remarkable instance, wherein the patient's 
spine, being broken, was forced inward in a position where 
it was impossible to be reached or pressed against by the 

Old Benny used to say that scarcely a day passed from 
the time Jerry was hurt until his substantial recovery, on 
which Mr. Robinson did not ride over to inquire after his 
health, whilst during the whole period of confinement he 
amply provided for the wants of Jerry's family. After 
Jerry got entirely well, and again went to work on the farm, 
he used to say that he wished Mr. Robinson would break his 
other leg, that his family might live as they did whilst the - 
one he broke Avas getting well ! 


Rowland Robinson made a large dairy, and his fancy was 
to have none but what were called " blanket cows," that is, 
cows that are entirely white all around the body between 
the shoulders and hips. His ambition, old Nichols said, was 
to have in his yard exactly one hundred " blanket cows,"' 
neither more nor less, and he took great pains to keep this 
number good by raising or purchasing animals so marked, 
but never fully succeeded. He could manage to keep ninety- 
nine pretty readily, but whenever the hundred was made 
up one or niore were sure to sicken and die, or be lost through 
some accident. 

Rowland Robinson was the father of three children only, 
viz.: two daughters named Hannah and Mary, both of whom 
were very beautiful, but especially the first named, and Wil- 
liam, his only son. William, who in gentleness and ami- 
ability of disposition was the very opposite of his father, 
married Ann (called Nancy), the daughter of George Scott, 
of Newport, and lived and died in the fine old mansion that 
still stands at the north-east corner of Broadway and Mann 
avenue in that city. 

From all I have heard, William Robinson must have been 
a man most singularly beloved by his fellow-townsmen. He 
died in October, 1804, and the late Stephen Ayrault Robin- 
son told me that in his boyhood he used to hear that the 


whole town of Newport mourned his loss, and that strong 
men, not his especial personal acquaintance, were seen to 
shed tears on the mere mention of his name dsijs. after his 

The death of his second daughter, Mary, in early woman- 
hood, by consumption, and the tragic fate of his eldest 
daughter so6n after, called ever after the " unfortunate 
Hannah," greatly weakened Mr. Robinson's mind, whilst the 
subsequent loss of his wife and that of his only and dearly 
beloved son in addition, proved altogether too much for his 
sensitive and undisciplined nature to bear up against, and 
his mind soon relapsed into a state of second childhood. 

Many were the anecdotes that used to be told of eccentric 
sayings and doings of the old gentleman after his faculties 
had become thus impaired. Among scores of others the 
following : One day while in the ferry-boat, on his way to 
Newport; a fellow passenger made some remark derogatory 
to the Society of Friends, for which Mr. Robinson reproved 
him in not very gentle terms. " Are you a Quaker, sir ?" 
said the stranger. " No," was the quick reply, "but I know 
and love the Quakers so well that I would fight knee-deep in 
blood in their defense." 

The wife of his brother Thomas Robinson, of Newport, 
whose house is now standing on the "Point," having recently 
been put in full repair by his great-grandson, Benjamin R. 
Smith, of Philadelphia, who has considerately made the re- 
pairs in harmony with the ancient architectural design, was 
a remarkably fine woman and a great favorite of her brother- 
in-law, Rowland Robinson, who, in case of serious difficulty 
or trouble, used in his latter days always to resort to her for 
counsel and comfort, though, it necessitated several miles' 
travel by land and the passing of two long ferries together 
measuring seven miles. 

One day he came to Mrs. Robinson in a towering rage 
against one of the Robinson family in Narragansett, with 
whom he had quarreled. After stating his grievance to his 


sister, " Sal," said he (as he always called her), " the Robin- 
sons are all rogues." " Why, no," said she, " that cannot be 
so, brother Rowland, for in that case thou, being a Robinson, 
must be a rogue thyself." " I believe I am, Sal ! I believe I 
am !" was the old gentleman's quick reply. 

On another occasion Mr. Robinson crossed the ferries to 
Newport to enter a complaint against my father, with whom 
he had become offended. " Sal," said he, " Rowland Hazard 
and I have quarreled, and I don't intend to leave him a 
cent." " And what have you quarreled about, brother 7" 
mildly asked Mrs. Robinson. After trying a few moments 
to gather in his thoughts the old man testily replied, " I 
can't remember now, Sal ! I can't remember now ! but I dare 
say it was something about money matters!" 

Sarah Robinson, the wife of Thomas Robinson, was a 
daughter of Thomas Richardson, who lived in the gambrel" 
roofed house now standing on the west side of Thames street 
in Newport, next but one north of Marlborough street, and 
occupied by Micah W. Spencer. Mr. Richardson was a man 
of the strictest probity and honor, and was for many years 
treasurer of the colony of Rhode Island. The original of 
the following love-letter addressed by Mr. Richardson to 
Miss Ann Newberry, who afterwards became his wife, has 
been preserved in the family of his great-grandson, Rowland 
T. Robinson, of Ferrisburgh, Vermont. It is printed pre- 
cisely in the language of the original : 

" , YE 17th of 6 MO., 1703. 

Dear Ann: 

I have long thought for an oportunity to present thee with . 
a few lines whereby (if thou wilt but Pleasure me So much 
as to read them) thou may in part perceive the Distemper 
which Continually Greives mee that is (first) the unhappi- 
ness that I ly Under by reason of the Great Distance between 
us so that thereby I am debared from that felicity of Injoy- 
ing the Company of Thy Person whom I Dearly Love but 
that is not all for I hope in a Short time to see Thee, 


(Secondly) that which Greives mee most is the want of 
Some Assurance of being excepted in to thy honnourable 
favour (for .as I told Thee) if it stand with God's will that I 
Injoy Thee for my Dearest friend I should esteeme it a great 
Blessing even beyond all other this world can afford beside 
therefore Dear Ann I beseech Thee if thou hast but ye least 
spark of respect for my happiness honnour mee with a line 
of Incorredgment Whereoff I take leve and subscribe my- 
self Thy Constant Lover Until Death." 

But though childlike in intellect, Rowland Robinson re- 
tained his activity of body — owing, probably, in a measure, to 
his passing so much of his life on horseback — up to almost 
the day of his death, which occurred in the year 1807, in the 
88th year of his age. 

The late Mrs. Mary Hunter, wife of Hon. William Hunter, 
formerly United States Minister to Brazil, in moralizing in a 
diar}^ she kept some half a century ago upon the situation of 
her great-uncle after the decease of his wife and children, 
makes this entry : " Rowland Robinson was thus left alone 
in his grandeur, a man of violent passions, which was charac- 
teristic of the Robinsons, but of a noble, benevolent nature." 

His remains lie buried in the family vault, beside those of 
his wife and children. The vault is about twenty feet long 
by fifteen broad, and is situated on an elevated mound that 
commands a beautiful land and sea view, some three furlongs 
west of the old family mansion in Boston Neck. Formerly 
North Kingstown and South Kingstown constituted one 
town — Kingstown, in Kings county, which was a part of the 
old " King's Province " — , and in running a division line 
between the two towns, when it was subdivided, it is said 
the line across Boston Neck was veered a little to the north 
to meet Mr. Robinson's expressed wishes that his house and 
family place of burial might be included in the town of South 
Kingstown, within the limits of which he was born and where 
most of his family, relatives and friends resided. 


From all 1 used to hear related in my young days con- 
cerning the '' unfortunate Hannah Robinson," her personal 
charms and accomplishments must have been of a character 
almost exceeding belief. She was described as being rather 
above the medium height, her figure just a trifle inclined to 
embonpoint^ of a clear complexion delicately tinted with the 
rose, dark hazel eyes, Grecian features of the finest mould 
throughout, surmounted with a faultless head of auburn hair 
that fell in luxuriant ringlets about her swanlike neck and 
shoulders, all of which was made the more bewitchingly at- 
tractive by a surpassingly lovely expression of countenance 
and an incomparable grace in speech, manner, and carriage. 
As had been the custom of the Narragansett gentry in times 
past, the parents of Miss Robinson spared neither pains nor 
expense in the education of their children, and, when ad- 
vanced in her teens, their daughter was placed in the care 
of an aunt at Newport, that she might receive instruction in 
the more polite branches under the care of the celebrated 
Madame Osborne, a most accomplished lady, whose fame as 
an instructor of young ladies was not confined to Newport, 
where she resided, nor to America. 

It was said that Madame Osborne was a Swedenborgian 
in belief, and very devotional in her nature. Most of her 
patrons were ruined in property, or greatly impoverished by 
the events of the Revolutionary war, and she was left in 


quite destitute cii-cumstances in her old age, but yet her 
faith never wavered from an entire assurance, that she would 
be provided with everything necessary for her comfort during 
her sojourn on earth.' H^dL^oUo 

Old Thomas Hornsby, of Newport, whose life was devoted 
to nursing and attending on the sick, for which his gentle 
breeding and sympathetic nature pre-eminently qualified him, 
used to tell me a curious anecdote in this connection. Mrs. 
Osborne lived in chambers for which she paid five dollars a 
quarter rent. As the time for a quarterly payment drew 
near, it was the practice of some of her friends to ascertain 
the prospect she had of getting the needful cash, so as to 
assist her, if necessary. On one such occasion it seemed to 
them very doubtful whether this would be forthcoming ; the 
old lady, however, manifested no uneasiness, but simply said, 
when queried with, that she would certainly have the amount 
in season. The day of payment, notwithstanding, arrived 
with not a cent in prospect to meet the quarter's rent. Still 
Madame Osborne manifested no alarm, and maintained that 
the money would come in due season. This did not satisfy, 
and her friend begged her to inform him whence she ex- 
pected the money to come. Thus urged, the old lady ex- 
hibited some impatience, and rather sharply replied that she 
did not know -whence it was to come — it might be " from 
France, for all she knew ;" but that she would certainly get 
it in season to meet the payment ! 

Scarcely had Madame Osborne pronounced the last word, 
when a rap was heard at the door, which wag opened to a 
genteel stranger, who, after satisfying himself of the identity 
of the lady present, proceeded to say that he was from Paris, 
and that shortly before he left the city, in an interview with 
a friend of his, who was formerly an aide on Rochambeau's 
staff in Newport, he requested that if, in his contemplated 
visit to America, he chanced to visit Newport, he would 
much oblige him by seeking out his old friend, Madame 
Osborne, of that town, and handing her with his kind re- 


gards this sovereign (just -$5), as a small token of his re- 
membrance of the pleasant hours he had passed in hersociet3^ 

It was while taking lessons under Madame Osborne's roof 
that Miss Robinson first saw M. Pierre Simond, or Mr. Peter 
Simons, a young and highly accomplished teacher in music 
and other branches of belles-lettres, the scion of a Huguenot 
family of some note, who were obliged to flee their country 
during the persecution of the French Protestants, in the 
reign of Louis XIV. Almost from the hour they met, a senti- 
ment of affection sprung up in the hearts of the young tutor 
andliis lovely, unsophisticated pupil, which had ripened into 
a strong mutual attachment before Miss Robinson's return to 
her parents' home in Narragansett. The lovers were aware 
that it would not do for one in Mr. Simons' position in life 
to venture into Mr. Robinson's house as a suitor of his daugh- 
ter, and that it might be equally unsafe to conduct a corre- 
spondence by post. In this dilemma fortune seemed to favor 
the young people. Miss Robinson's maternal uncle, Col. Wil- 
liam Gardiner, who lived less than two miles from her father's 
house, found it most convenient to educate his children partly 
at home. With this purpose in view, in looking about for 
an accomplished private tutor, through the recommendation 
of Madame Osborne and others of his Newport friends he 
engaged Mr. Simons to go with him to Narragansett and 
occupy that position in his family. Thus situated, it may be 
readily divined that the lovers enjoyed many opportunities of 
seeing each other, especially as Colonel Gardiner, who was of 
a kind and easy disposition, on becoming aware of the strong 
attachment that existed between his lovely niece and her 
former tutor, sought rather to promote opportunities for in- 
terviews between the lovers than otherwise. 

It was not until her mother's suspicions were aroused on 
account of the unusual frequency of her daughter's visits to 
her uncle Gardiner's that Miss Robinson confided to her the 
secret of her love. After trying for months in vain to per- 
suade her child to discard her affianced lover, and finding^ 


that nothing conld induce her to prove false to her plighted 
faith, Mrs. Robinson forbore further opposition. Thus en- 
couraged by the mother's tacit consent, if not approval, of 
his suit, it was mutually arranged by the lovers that Mr, 
Simons should occasionally walk over from Col. Gardiner's of 
an evening, and, on the appearance of a signal light in Miss 
Robinson's chamber window, approach the house and secrete 
himself in a large lilac bush that grew beneath it, whence 
billets might b6 easily passed ; or they could converse in 
whisper without being detected. In fact, so emboldened did 
the lovers become by the unbroken success that attended 
this stratagem that they finally arranged for occasional meet- 
ings in Miss Robinson's own chamber, lier mother lending 
her presence and countenance to the dangerous adventure, 
rendered all the more critical because of it being the un- 
deviating practice of Mr. Robinson to bid his daughter good 
night before he retired, even if it required his going to her 
own chamber or elsewhere. Hence it was necessary to have 
a convenient place, like the cupboard before alluded to, into 
which Miss Robinson's lover might retreat on untoward occa- 

Though not yet grown to mature womanhood, Miss Robin- 
son, as might be readily surmised, had many admirers. — 
Among these was a Dr. William Bowen, of Providence, who 
was ardently attached to the fair damsel, and earnestly sought 
her, with her father's full approval, in marriage. Miss Rob- 
inson, however, graciously declined his addresses, and that 
he might not indulge in delusive hopes, imparted to him in 
confidence, the fact that her affections were irrevocably en- 
gaged to another. 

The heart of that rudely chivalric and perfect " dare-devil" 
Col. Harry Babcock, of Narragansett, but known the world 
over as " crazy Harry Babcock," was perhaps never subdued 
by female charms but once. He was the eldest son of Dr. 
Joshua Babcock, of what is now Westerly, in Narragan- 
sett, a gentleman of refinement and wealth, at whose house 


Benjamin Franklin used always to stop — as he also did with 
his friend, John Case, Esq., who lived on Tower Hill — in his 
yearly journeyings on horseback to and fi-om Philadelphia 
and Boston. 

Updike, in his History, relates a characteristic anecdote of 
Dr. Franklin, while he was stopping at Dr. Babcock's. 
Mrs. Babcock asked him if he "would have his bed warm- 
ed.'.' " No, madam, thank'ee," he replied; " but if you will 
have a little cold water sprinkled on the sheets I have no 

It was on one of these annual journeyings that Dr. Franklin 
happened to arrive at a tavern near New London on a cold 
evening, where he found every place around the blazing 
wood fire closely occupied. No one offering to relinquish 
his seat, the doctor called upon the landlord to give his horse 
a peck of raw oysters, which order was repeated in a more 
decided tone upon the host hesitating to comply with his re- 
quest. The oysters were accordingly carried out by the 
landlord, followed by the individuals who had monopolized 
the seats around the fire, they all being curious to see a horse 
eat oysters. The landlord soon returned and told the doctor, 
who, by this time, was comfortably ensconced in the arm- 
chair in the warmest corner, that his horse refused to eat the 
oysters. " Poor, foolish beast !" said the doctor ; " he don't 
know what is good ; bring them to me, and see if I will re- 
fuse them !" 

Alluding to "Crazy Harry," Updike says: "Doctor Bab- 
cock's eldest son, Col. Harry Babcock, was a brilliant and 
extraordinary man, formed by nature and education to be 
the flower of his family and an ornament to the country 
which gave him birth. His biography, written by one who 
had the requisite documents, talent and leisure, would form 
a curious, interesting and instructive work." 

During England's wars with France, in colonial times, 
Colonel Harry Babcock performed many marvelous feats of 
valor, both by land and sea, and in all his engagements and 


fights he never once, it is said, succumbed to a foe. 

Before the Revolutionary war he went to London, and on 
the night of his arrival attended a play at Covent Garden 
Theatre. There being no seat vacant, the Colonel stood in 
a passage-way. A policeman, seeing his tall, gaunt figure 
standing erect, with a big slouched hat on his head, touched 
his shoulder with his baton and told him to be uncovered. 
Col. Babcock thereupon took off his hat, and, reaching up 
to a chandelier near by, hung it over one of the lights. A 
murmur of disapprobation ran through the hall, and the 
police were about to eject the rude intruder, when some one 
present, called out, " Colonel Harry Babcock !" Upon this 
announcement the performers in the play ceased acting their 
parts to join in the uproarious applause that greeted the pres- 
ence of the far-famed hero, " Crazy Harry Babcock." 

A short time after this. Col. Harry Babcock received an 
invitation to the palace, and was introduced to the royal 
family. When the Queen, in accordance with usage, offered 
him her hand to kiss, the gallant colonel sprang from his 
knees to his feet, briskly exclaiming, '' May it please your 
majesty, in my country it is the custom to salute, not the 
hand, but the lips of a beautiful woman !" and suiting the 
action to his words, he seized the Queen by the shoulders 
and impressed on her lips a loud and hearty smack ! 

Rowland Robinson chancing once to me,et Col. Babcock 
on Little Rest Hill (now Kingston), during a session of the 
court in February, asked the eccentric colonel to go home 
with him and stay the night. " Ah, ha !" said Crazy Harry ; 
'"■ so you want me to see Hannah, that I've heard so much 
of, do you ? Well, I will go, but don't expect me to fall in 
love with her, as so many fools have done." 

As was the general custom in those days, they both rode 
on horseback, and when they came near to McSparran Hill, 
one of the longest and probably the steepest hill road in 
Rhode Island — the ground being covered with ice at the 
time — ,Mr. Robinson cautioned his friend against the danger 


of descending on a smooth-shod horse, as his appeared to be, 
and advised him to dismount and lead his beast down the 
descent. Instead of heeding the well-meant caution, when 
they reached the brow of the hill, and Mr. Robinson was in 
the act of dismounting, " Crazy Harry" suddenly exclaimed, 
" Now, Mr. Robinson, I will show you how the devil rides !" 
and putting spurs to his horse, he went slipping and sliding 
down the steep declivity, fortunately without accident, on 
the full run. When they shortly after arrived at the house, 
the colonel was in high and outspoken glee at the prospect, 
as he said, of seeing " the prettiest woman in Rhode Island," 
these words being spoken in a loud, jocular tone, just as they 
entered the door of the sitting-room, where Miss Robinson 
was at the time engaged in sewing. With a slight flush on 
her cheeks, and a look of surprise, she arose with her cus- 
tomary dignity and grace to receive her father, and welcome 
his boisterous guest, whose eyes no sooner fell upon the 
beautiful vision than the rough-spoken hero seemed to have 
been suddenly overcome by some charmed spell. As Miss 
Robinson, on being introduced by her father, extended to- 
w^ard him her hand, the " crazy colonel" reverentially took 
it gently in his, and gazing in her face with a subdued look 
of wonder and admiration, he dropped on his knee before 
her, and, with a voice tremulous with emotion, softly and 
slowly said: " Permit, dear madam, the lips that have kissed 
unrebuked those of the proudest Queen of earth, to press, 
for a moment, the hand of an angel from heaven." 

Scarcely less flattering, though in a different vein, was a 
compliment that was once paid to Miss Robinson's charms 
by an old Quaker preacher, who chanced to meet her at her 
uncle Thomas Robinson's, while she was yet attending school. 
After gazing steadfastly in her face for some minutes, the old 
man drew his chair to her side and remarked, " Friend, thou 
are wonderfully beautiful !". 


Though Dr. Bowen kept inviolate the secret of her engage- 
ment imparted to him in confidence by Miss Robinson, her 
naturally frank and unsuspicious father, nevertheless, began 
to imagine that there must be some cause unknown to him 
to account for his daughter's rejection of the addresses of so 
many suitors, and especially of Dr. Bowen, who seemed every 
way qualified to confer upon her happiness in domestic life. 

It was not long before his suspicions were confirmed. 
Chancing late one evening to step suddenly out of the front 
door of his house which had been left ajar, Mr. Robinson 
caught a glimpse of his daughter's arm reaching down from 
the window above, just as she was about to drop a billet into 
the extended hand of her lover. Instantly seizing a heavy 
buckthorn cane that stood near the door he thrust it violent- 
ly into the lilac bush, from which, upon the stick coming in 
contact with his person, rushed forth a man who was quickly 
lost to sight in the darkness, but not until Mr. Robinson rec- 
ognized him to be no other than the young teacher of music 
he remembered to have occasionally seen at the house of his 
brother-in-law, William Gardiner. Frantic with rage the in- 
censed parent hastened to his daughter's chamber, and up- 
braided her in unmeasured terms for her unfilial conduct in 
disregarding his wishes respecting the choice of a husband 
in every way befitting her, and thus throwing herself away 
upon a wretched " French dancing master," as Mr. Robinson 
ever after designated Mr. Simons. The poor girl answered 


not a word, either in way of confession or denial, but remain- 
ed mute as a statue under all her father's reproaches. This 
only exasperated the choleric and undisciplined parent the 
more, and it may be readily conceived there could have been 
but little hope of peace or happiness for Miss Robinson whilst, 
under her father's roof in the future, or at least so long as 
she refused to discard the addresses of the man upon whom 
she had irrevocably placed her affections. 

" If she walked," says Updike, p. 189, " her movements 
were watched ; if she rode, a servant was ordered to be in 
constant attendance ; if a visit was contemplated, he im- 
mediately suspected it was only a pretence for an arranged 
interview; and even after departure, if the most trifling cir- 
cumstance gave color to suspicion, he would immediately 
pursue and compel her to return. In one instance, she left 
home to visit her aunt in New London ; her father soon after- 
wards discovered from his windows a vessel leaving New- 
port, and taking a course towards the same place. Although 
the vessel and the persons on board where wholly unknown 
to him, his jealousies were immediately aroused. Conjectur- 
ing it was Mr. Simons intending to fulfil an arrangement pre- 
viously made, he hastened to New London, arrived a few 
hours only after his daughter, and insisted on her instant re- 
turn. No persuasion or argument could induce him to change 
his determination, and she was compelled to return with 

It was fortunate that at this crisis the engagement of Mr. 
Simons with Colonel Gardinei- was about expiring ; other- 
wise a breach of friendship and intercourse between the two 
families might have been the consequence. Mr. Simons, how- 
ever, found another, though more distant, home in.Narragan- 
sett, and still persevered in his suit, the story of which had 
now become widely spread abroad. 

On account of Mr. Robinson's rabid and unreasonable op- 
position to his daughter's wishes, and the rigid measures he 
adopted to prevent the lovers meeting, nearly the whole 


neighborhood became interested in their behalf, and almost 
every connection of the family was ready to assist in foi- 
warding opportunities for their interviews. These, however, 
were attended with great difficulty, as her father never per- 
mitted his daughter to leave home without being attended 
by a confidential servant on whose vigilance and faithfulness 
he could rely. For this reason'.months sometimes passed 
without the affianced lovers meeting each other, although 
through the agency of an attached and confidential friend of 
Miss Robinson — a Miss Belden, from Hartford — , who was 
staying at the time with her Uncle William Gardiner, who 
married an aunt of Miss Belden, a secret correspondence was 
kept up between them. 

The life of anxiety and worry Miss Robinson was subject- 
ed to, finally began to affect her health so seriously, that even 
her mother, though she did not actively abet, took no pains 
to frustrate, a plan she,? strongly suspected was perfecting, 
whereby, with the aid of friends. Miss Robinson had con- 
sented to embrace the first favorable opportunity to elope 
from her father's house and unite ^herself in wedlock with 
her lover. Nor was it long before such an occasion present- 
ed, itself. 

It was the custom in those days for wealthy families in 
Narragansett to entertain on an extensive scale, nor were 
the invitations confined to the locality alone, but were sent 
by post to friends in Newport, Providence, Boston, and other 
distant parts. A ball of this kind was announced some days 
beforehand, to be given^by Mrs. Lodowick Updike, who was 
a sister of Mrs. Rowland Robinson. It wo uld in that hospit- 
able time have been considered a breach of etiquette, were 
not some of Mr. Robinson s family to attend on the occasion, 
and it was finally arranged, with many misgivings on his 
part, that his two daughters, Hannah and Mary, should go 
to the ball and stay the night with their aunt. Prince, Mr. 
Robinson's body servant, as a matter of coarse was to wait 


upon and keep watch and guard over the beautiful sisters, 
especially the elder. 

Mr. Updike owned and occupied a large landed estate in 
North Kingstown, and lived in the fine old mansion still 
standing a little north of Wickford, on the east side of the 
old post-road, on the site where, Updike's History says, was 
erected by Richard Smith, the first settler in Narragansett, 
the first English house or "fort" built in that district of the 
country. This fortified house must have been standing in 
1675, as I have heard the late Daniel E. Updike, of East 
Greenwich, relate that after the great Indian swamp fight, 
which occurred in South Kingstown in 1675, a Connecticut 
regiment encamped for the night on his great-grandfather's 
estate, and that on the next morning the officers of the regi- 
ment, who lodged at his house, took a fine-looking young In- 
dian warrior, whom they had captured after the battle, into 
the orchard, and, out of "pure cussedness"' .and for sport, 
placed his head on a tree stump and chopped it off with a 
wood axe. 

For this dastardly attack on the Indians for which the 
people of Narragansett were in no way responsible, as they 
had kept faith and lived in the immediate neighborhood in 
peace and harmony with them up to the very night of the 
battle, the governments of Massachusetts and Connecticut 
are alone answerable at the bar of eternal justice. 

I have heard old people say that on the s^ery day preced- 
ing the massacre, the Indians had exchanged neighborly kind- 
nesses with a family by the name of Knowles— one of the 

most ancient and respectable of Narragansett families ,who 

resided within a short distance of their encampment on the 
elevated knoll in the swamp. 

In referring to the outrageous extermination of the most 
powerful, warlike and numerous of the New England tribes of 
aborigines, Updike, in his History, says : 

" Canonchet, the son of the brave but unfortunate Mian- 
tonomi, was the last sachem of the race. He commanded the 


Indians in the great swamp fight of 1675. This battle exter- 
minated the Narragansetts as a nation. He was captured 
near the Blackstone river, after the war, and executed for 
the crime of defending his country and refusing to surrender 
the territories of his ancestors by a treaty of peace. It was 
glory enough for such a nation to have expired with such a 
chief. The coolness, fortitude and heroism of his fall stands 
without a parallel in ancient or modern times. He was offered 
life upon the condition that he would treat for the submission 
of his subjects ; but his untamed spirit indignantly rejected 
the ignominious proposition. When the sentence was an- 
nounced to him that he must die, he said, ' I like it well, 


" The splendid dignity of his fall extorted from one of the 
prejudiced historians of the times the sentiment that, acting 
as if by a Pythagorean metempsychosis, some old Roman 
ghost had possessed the body of the western pagan like an 
Attilius Regulus ! Thus ended the last chief of the Narra- 
gansetts, and with Canonchet the nation was extinguished 

Ninnegret, says Updike, was the sachem of the Nyantics — 
since called the Charlestown tribe — ,and only related collat- 
erally " to the family of Canonicus, who was the grand sachem 
of the Narragansetts when the whites first settled Plymouth." 
Ninnegret was succeeded by a son of the same name, and he 
in turn by his son George. " George left three children, 
Thomas, George, and Esther. Thomas, commonly called 
' King Tom,' was born in 1732, and succeeded as sachem in 
July, 1746." (See Potter's History of Narragansett.) 

The arm-chair in which King Tom was crowned, and which 
represented his throne, is now in the possession of Rowland 
G. Hazard, of Peacedale, in a good state of preservation. 

King Tom was succeeded by Esther. William Kenyon, 
late of Charlestown, writes (see Updike's History) : " I 
saw Queen Esther crowned over seventy years ago [about 


1776]. She was elevated on a large rock, so that the people 
might see her. The council surrounded her. There were 
present about twenty Indian soldiers with guns. They 
marched her to the rock. The Indian nearest the royal blood, 
in presence of her counselors, put the crown on her head. It 
was made with cloth covered with blue and white peage. 
When the crown was put on the soldiers fired a royal salute 
and huzzaed in the Indian tongue. The ceremony was impos- 
ing, and everything was conducted with great order. Then 
the soldiers waited on her to the house, and fired salutes. 
There were five hundred natives present, beside others. 
Queen Esther left one son named George ; he was crowned 
after the death of his mother. I was enlisting soldiers and 
went to him and asked him to enlist as a soldier in the Revo- 
lutionary war ; the squaws objected, and told me he was 
their king." King George was killed by the limb of a tree, 
while felling timber, in the twenty-second year of his age. 
" No king," says Updike, " was ever crowned after him, and 
not an Indian of the whole blood now [1847] remains in 
the tribe." 

Queen Esther, I think, must have inherited a good deal of 
the spirit of the illustrious Narragansett chiefs, to whom, Up- 
dike states, her family was only collaterally related. I used 
to hear the late Molly Hazard, a granddaughter of Gov. Wil- 
liam Robinson, say, that Queen Esther was a frequent visitor 
at her father's (Sylvester Robinson's) and her grandfather's, 
and that she was very much attached to the family of Robin- 
son, but could not be induced to converse in English, declar- 
ing through her interpreter, to the last, that she would never 
"speak the language of the destroyers of her people." 

An anecdote used to be told me of an instance wherein 
Queen Esther attended upon the last moments of a little 
girl to whom she was devotedly attached, but whose earnest 
appeals that she might speak one word to her in English 
before she died, was resisted to the last, although tears roll- 
ed down the poor Indian's cheek under the severe conflict 


her contending feelings of affection and pride were forced to 

It was the cruel treatment of the Indians by the colonists 
of Connecticut and Massachusetts, and the banishment of 
Roger Williams and the Baptists, together with the whipping 
and hanging of the Quakers by the latter, that doubtless gave 
rise to the old-time three-plied religious creed, which, when 
I was young, used to be inculcated into the ductile minds of 
infant children in nearly every well ordered family in Narra- 
gansett, viz.: 1st. " That ye love one another," and '' your 
neighbor as yourselves ;" 2d. That ye hate the Puritans of 
Massachusetts with a perfect hatred ; 3d. That ye hold the 
Presbyterians of Connecticut in like contempt. 

Under such unfavorable circumstances it may readily be 
surmised that when Parson Kendall, irreverently called '' the 
six-fingered parson" from a supernumerary finger on his left 
hand, was sent as a missionary from Connecticut, that his 
preaching met with little success. It was even said that on 
an occasion wherein old Sim Hazard happened to be present, 
when the parson was holding forth with unusual heat, the 
irreverent listener got up and left the meeting-house, declar- 
ing that he'd be d — d if he would sit by and hear anybody 
so shamefully abused as the Connecticut six-fingered parson 
was abusing the devil, if he was black ! 

In fact, I cannot call to mind of ever hearing of more than 
three of the regular " blue" sort of the denomination living 
in all eastern Narragansett, in my younger days. 

One of these was old Parson Torrey, who lived and died 
before my memory in a house that stood about one mile from 
the village, on the south side of the road running west from 
Tower Hill, on what is now called the "• Tory lot." 

I the more particularly remember old Parson Torrey, from 
a uniform wa}^ my father used to tell me, when I was a small 
boy, the old Presbyterian had of reproving his son, a very 
naughty boy, to whom he would say, with great emphasis, 


when he behaved amiss, " Why ! I am ashamed of 3'ou, John ! 
I am ashamed of you !'" 

Were it not for this circumstance I should probably have 
forgotten hearing of Parson Torrey, as I probably might have 
forgotten ever seeing his successor, Parson Kendall, were it 
not for his extra little finger, which attracted my boyish 
attention more than his whole body, limbs and all beside. 

The two others were brothers, both rising eighty, named 
Simon and Ray Mumford, who owned and occupied a brick 
house in Point Judith, that was demolished some years ago 
to give place to a new structure erected for Mrs. William 

I doubt even if the qrthodoxy of these could be relied 
upon ; for old Ray used to say that a Bible and a Life of 
Oliver Cromwell were the only books in their house, and 
that after more than forty years' examination of the two 
neither he nor his brother Simon had been able to determine 
which was the best book ! 

I knew both of these old gentlemen pretty well. Old 
Simon used to sit a good portion of the warm season of the 
year on a rock on the top of a conical hill that rises some two or 
three furlongs south of the present Tower Hill Hotel, on the 
Mumford land, his occupation being to watch his son Nathan- 
iel's cattle and sheep, who was proverbially careless of his 


To return from this long digression : Mr. Simons was, of 
course, apprised by Miss Belden of the contemplated visit 
of Miss Robinson to her aunt's in North Kingstown, and it 
was arranged that he should meet her on the way and the 
lovers make their escape to Providence. When the morning 
of the day of Miss Robinson's departure — perhaps forever — 
from the home of her childhood, rendered sacred and dear 
by a thousand tender recollections, arrived, the struggle in 
the poor girl's breast between filial duty and sisterly affection 
on the one side and that all-conquering sentiment which is 
implanted by nature in every female heart, that compels a 
woman to disregard, as it were, even against her own will, 
every consideration that stands between her and the man 
she loves, on the other, was pitiable to contemplate. Still 
Miss Robinson maintained, in a good degree, an outward ap- 
pearance of composure until the moment came to take leave 
of the household. After especially bidding Phillis, the cook, 
and Hannah, her own waiting-maid, an affectionate farewell, 
and charging them both to take good care of her little 
spaniel Marcus, and Felis, her favorite cat, she threw her 
arms around her mother's neck and sobbed as if her heart 
was breaking. Still the high-spirited girl, the victim of 
what in the end proved a misplaced affection, persevered in 
her resolution to remain faithful to her vows. Mounting from 
the stone horse-block her splendid Spanish jennet or "Nar- 
ragansett pacer" — from whose sire and dam, imported by 


her grandfather Robinson from Andalusia, sprang a race of 
horses unrivaled for the saddle in America — ,Miss Robinson 
and her companions rode away. 

It was fortunate for the success of the ill-starred adven- 
ture that Miss Robinson had taken leave of her father an 
hour before her departure, he having been unexpectedly 
called away on urgent business; otherwise the heart-rending 
emotion that overcame her just before leaving might have 
given rise to suspicion in his breast that would have led to 
a positive forbiddance of her departure from home. 

When the ladies attended by Prince reached an "elbow " 
turn in the highway on Ridge Hill, a thickly wooded spot, 
they encountered Mr. Simons with a closed carriage, into 
which the affianced bride, after dismounting and bidding her 
sister an affectionate adieu, and charging Prince to see 
well to Selim, her pony, assisted by her lover, hastily step- 
ped, and was driven rapidly away on the road towards Provi- 
dence, in spite of the frantic appeals and remonstrances of 
Prince. Mr. Simons had thoughtfully secured the attend- 
ance of his sister for the occasion, who had provided an ad- 
dition to Miss Robinson's necessarily scanty wardrobe, and 
in a few hours the lovers, with the aid of the pastoral ser- 
vices of a regularly ordained minister of the Episcopal church, 
were indissolubly united in the bonds of wedlock. 

Miss Mary Robinson and her sable attendant proceeded no 
farther on their journey, but returned to her father's house, 
where, as may be readily inferred, there was but little quiet 
or sleep that night. Suffice to say, that Mr. Robinson, after 
fully comprehending the fact that his daughter had really 
eloped from the parental roof, and was then undoubtedly 
wedded to the wretched "French dancing master," he so 
thoroughly despised, was for a time completely beside him- 
self with rage. He offered a large reward to any one 
who would make known to him the person or persons who 
aided in her escape, but wholly without success. 

But now approaches the most sorrowful part of the story 


of " unfortunate Hannah Robinson." After her marriage, 
Mr. Simons took his bride to reside for a time with his father, 
Peter Simons, who lived in the fine old, two-story, hip-roof- 
ed house, still standing on the north side of Bridge street, 
near Thames street, in Newport. Tliis house is at present 
owned and occupied by Mr. Zenas L. Hammond. The 
elaborately finished front door, and the accompanying por- 
tico, which was formerly mounted with a carved pine-apple, 
after the manner of the old State House, together with the 
heavy carriage gate-way, have been recently remodeled. 
The premises in other respects remain the same as when first 
established, and are still in good repair. The nicely finish- 
ed paneling, extending all around the lower front rooms from 
the floor to the ceiling, is apparently as perfect as when first 
placed there, some century and a half ago. Here Miss Rob- 
inson, now Mrs. Simons, remained for some months, when 
her husband obtained a professional situation in Providence, 
and removed his wife to that city, where they took a house 
in which she resided for some one or two years, up to the 
time she went home to die. 

Mr. Simons, though of a pleasing person and seductive 
manners and address, proved to be an unthrifty, unprincipled 
man, who, finding that his wife was likely to be wholly dis- 
carded and disinherited by her father, began not long after 
his marriage to treat her with neglect, and to indulge in his 
naturally dissipated propensities, until he became totally reck- 
less and almost entirely deserted her. After striving with 
all her might for a time to arrest the downward course of 
her husband, whom she continued to love to the last moment 
of her life notwithstanding his cruel treatment, the poor 
lady's health broke down completely and she was obliged to 
keep her bed. 

As yet, with the exception that her mother had contrived 
to send to her hapless daughter, soon after her flight 
from home, her wardrobe and her little dog, Marcus, who 
seemed inconsolable for the loss of his mistress, she had 


not received any recognition or assistance whatever from her 
relatives. In the meantime Mrs. Simon's sister Mary had 
died with the consumption, whilst her mother's health un- 
der her complicated anxieties and suffering had given way, 
so that she was unable to go to her daughter, to say nothing 
of the opposition she might have met with from her still ex- 
asperated husband, had she made the attempt. Upon learn- 
ing the forlorn condition of her suffering child, Mrs. Robin- 
son did, however, manage, through the instrumentality of 
her stripling sonWilliam, and occasionally through the assist- 
ance of others, to convey to her the needed wherewithal to 
supply her most pressing material wants, and keep advised 
of the progress of her sickness. It was in vain, however, 
that she pleaded with her incensed husband to mitigate his 
rigor toward his unfortuate daughter and to permit her to 
be brought to his house. 

It soon became pretty evident to Mrs. Robinson that, not- 
withstanding the acrimonious demeanor her husband habit- 
ually manifested externally towards his absent, undutiful 
child, there was still a soft place left in his proud and sorely 
wounded heart for her memory to nestle in. She had ob- 
served that when he returned home after a day's or more 
absence, in case Hannah's cat was not in sight, he would 
wander abstractedly from room to room until he encoun- 
tered the real object of his search, when, without seemingly 
noticing the animal, he would sit quietly down. More than 
once, too, Mrs. Robinson had, unconsciously to her husband, 
observed him conveying stealthily a tid-bit from his own plate 
under the table to Felis, and on one occasion on coming un- 
expectedly into the sitting-room, she found the sorrowing 
father, his eyes suffused with tears, pressing the dumb favor- 
ite of his truant child to his bosom. Prince also remarked 
that since his mistress left home, Mr. Robinson went twice 
as often to the stable to see Hannibal, his own favorite sad- 
dle horse, as he ever did before, and that he always patted 
Selim on the neck the very last thing he did when he was 
about to go away. 


As all the accounts received from Providence went to show 
that the health of Mrs. Simons was rapidly declining, Mr. 
Robinson began to manifest symptoms of serious alarm, and 
one day, after consenting to the entreaties of his wife that 
Mrs. Simons' maid. Hannah, should go and stay with her 
young mistress, he told her of his own accord that Hannah 
might come home if she would consent to reveal to him the 
names of those who had aided in her elopement ; but on no 
other condition, let the consequences be what they might. 

On being informed of this proposition of her father, Mrs. 
Simons wrote to him an affectionate letter, in which she la- 
mented in moving terms having been a cause of so much 
trouble to him and feelingly expressed her gratitude for his 
kind offer to permit her again to return to the loved home 
of her childhood. She added in lines that showed that the 
feeble hand by which they were indited trembled with in- 
creased emotion, that bitter as was the alternative, the sen- 
timents of honor her dear parent had instilled into her mind 
from childhood would not permit her, even with life at 
stake, to betray the confidence that had been reposed in her 
by those who had so seriously offended him on her account. 
On receiving his daughter's letter, Mr. Robinson read it 
eagerly, and with apparent satisfaction, until he reached the 
last paragraph, when tossing the missive contemptuously to 
his wife, he angrily exclaimed, "-Then let the foolish thing 
die where she is !" 

As the accounts received of Mrs. Simons' health, however, 
grew more and more alarming, it became evident that a ter- 
rible struggle for mastery was going on in the wretched fath- 
er's breast, between an overweening, untamable pride, wound- 
ed to the quick and supported by an indomitable will, on 
the one side, and parental affection, as true and unconquera- 
ble as ever found place in the most tender and susceptible 
human breast, on the other. The conflict at length became 
unendurable, and one day, pushing from him his plate of un- 
tasted food, he arose from the dinner table and ordered his 


horse to the door. He at once mo anted, and, telling his wife 
not to expect. him back for a day or two, rode rapidly away. 
That night he lodged with his friend and kinsman, Lodowick 
Updike, who resided at the old family seat, some eight miles' 
on the way toward Providence. The next forenoon Mr. 
Robinson reached his daughter's house, and, riding up to the 
steps without dismounting, rapped on the door with the head 
of his cane. The door was opened by his daughter's maid,. 
Hannah, who was born in his house a short time after the 
birth of her young mistress and called after her name. 
Overjoyed to see her master, the servant girl stopped not to 
talk with him, but hastened to her mistress' chamber with 
the glad tidings. Mrs. Simons was too ill to leave her bedy 
but sent her entreaties to her father that he should come to 
her. "Ask your mistress," said Mr. Robinson, "whether she 
is ready to comply with her father's wishes, and say to hev 
that if she is, he will come to her; but on no other condi- 
tion !" Though again to refuse compliance was like taking 
life from the poor invalid, Mrs. Simons could not find it in 
her noble nature to betray her friends, and was obliged to 
again deny her father's request. On his daughter's answer 
being communicated to him, Mr. Robinson hastily turned 
away, and without saying an intelligible word, rode back 
without stopping for refreshment for man or beast to his 
friend Updike's, where he again passed the night, and so 
away to his solitary home in the morning. 

But the warring elements which had been only momen- 
tarily allayed by his journey continued to rage with increas- 
ed violence in the father's breast, until they became so over- 
powering that the unhappy man could neither eat nor sleep, 
and, urged on by contending passions, but a day or two elap- 
sed after his return from the first visit when Mr. Robinson 
again started on the road to Providence, stopping a night 
with his friend Updike on his journey to and fro as before. 
These visits he continued to repeat, at intervals of two or 
three days only, for some weeks. In every instance, he 


would ride up to the door of the house v/here his sick daugh- 
ter lay, and, without dismounting from his horse, simply say 
to the servant he had summoned by a knock of his cane on 
the door, -'How is Hannah ?" and on receiving an answer 
he would immediately turn the head of his horse, and ride 

Miss Belden, of Hartford, and Mrs. Simons' uncle, Wil- 
liam Gardiner, who had married an aunt of Miss Belden of 
the same name and city, were the only individuals that were 
implicated in the demand of Mr. Robinson, and so soon as 
the former became acquainted with the pitiable dilemma in 
which her unfortunate friend was placed, she dispatched a 
letter by post to Mrs. Simons, in which she not only absolved 
her from all obligations of secrecy, but commanded her to 
make the confession required by her incensed father, irre- 
spective of any consideration on her account. 

About the same time, Mrs. Simons' uncle, William Gardi- 
ner, called to see his niece in Providence, and insisted upon 
her making a clean breast of the whole affair to her father, 
regardless of any obligations of secrecy she felt bound by 
in relation to him. Thus set at liberty, the next time her 
father called Mrs. Simons sent word that if he would come 
to her bedside she would tell him all. 

Trembling with emotion, Mr. Robinson dismounted and ' 
ascended the stairs to his sick daughter's comfortless cham- 
ber. Until then he had formed no conception of the ex- 
tremity to which his poor child was reduced. As he ap- 
proached the bed and took her hand, thin almost to transpar- 
ency, in both of his, and looked into the scarcely recogniza- 
ble face, but a few years before so surpassingly fair, but now 
so wan, so sorrowful, so despairing, with naught remaining 
of the beauteous complexion that once outrivaled the lily and 
the rose, save the fearful hectic tint that death's messenger 
sends before to announce to those the angels love best their 
near approach, the flood-gates that had when braced by op- 
position so long withstood the promptings of his better na- 


ture gave way, and the long pent-up affections of the fath- 
er's heart burst forth in one uncontrollable tide of tenderness 
and love. No wish nor thought was then in the wretched 
parent's breast to wring from his poor daughter the hitherto 
coveted secret, and the strong man, falling on his knees by 
the bedside, bathed the pale, cold hand of his dying child 
with tears, and wept aloud. 

After he had somewhat regained his composure, he hand- 
ed some pieces of gold to his daughter's waiting-maid, and 
charged her to see that her mistress lacked for nothing that 
would promote her comfort, until his return. Mr. Robinson 
then tenderly kissed his broken-hearted child, and mounting 
his horse, delayed not on the road save for needed refresh- 
ments, until he arrived late in the evening at his house in 
Boston Neck. 

In those early times, when roads were rough, and four- 
wheeled carriages almost unknown, litters for the sick were 
indispensable articles in all well-appointed households in 
Narragansett, and, as old Benny Nichols used to relate, im- 
mediately after Mr. Robinson arrived home, he was summon- 
ed from his bed and ordered to take four strong men and 
proceed with them and the litter, in his pleasure boat, as 
fast as sails and oars would speed them, to Providence, and 
there await his arrival. 

The next morning by break of day Mr. Robinson him- 
self started on horseback, attended by Prince and a led- 
horse for his daughter's maid-servant. On their arrival be- 
fore the door of her residence, he sent his man with the 
three horses to Macomber's tavern, and entering ^the house, 
apprised the invalid of the arrangements that had been 
made for conveying her to Narragansett, by which it was 
proposed to stop at her uncle Updike's the first night, and, 
if her strength permitted, to reach home the next day. 

In the meantime, the boat bringing the litter and men to 
carry it had arrived at the wharf, and on the next morning 
by nine o'clock the whole party were slowly wending their 


way towards the homestead in Boston Neck. They arrived 
safely at Mr. Updike's with less fatigue to the poor invalid 
than was feared, and as it had been previously arranged, 
there the party rested for the night. 

The sun had almost reached the meridian before it was 
deemed advisable to move onward again. A refreshing show- 
er had fallen in the morning, which imparted a sparkling 
loveliness to the whole vegetable kingdom, that seemed to 
be rejoicing in the summer rays of a clear, unclouded sun. 
It was in the lovely month of June, when the rose, the sy- 
ringa, the wild honeysuckle and sweet- scented clover, were 
all in bloom, and those most glorious of all earthly parterres, 
the apple tree orchards along the road, now in full blossom, 
and glittering with rain drops, conveyed to the senses of the 
beholder, more delightsome sensations, than any assemblage 
of the more gaudy but less fragrant foliage of tropical 
climes can bestow. 

As the mournful party moved forward, ever and anon, lit- 
tle striped chipmunks were to be seen, skipping along the 
tops and sides of the rough stone walls that lined the way, 
whilst larger individuals of the species, the bush-tail, red 
and grey squirrels, were at times espied amidst the thick fo- 
liage af their favorite chestnut and walnut trees, leaping 
from branch to branch in playful sport. Occasionally, too, 
native rabbits were seen in the adjoining woods, and the 
homely woodchucks, or groundhogs, seemed to be all abroad, 
and on the nearer approach of the slowly moving cortege 
would scamper to the entrance of their holes in the ground, 
and maintaining their guard the while, stand upright on 
their haunches, as if to take a better view of the unwonted 
group that were passing by. Innumerable birds were 
holding their accustomed jubilee, after the shower had pass- 
ed away, filling the air with music, too divine to be learned 
elsewhere than of the angels who dwell in the mid heavens, 
where the feathered songsters alone are permitted to soar. 
The black-bird and mocking-bird seemed everywhere 


vying with each other in their melodious powers, whilst the 
quavering note of the meadow lark responded to the whis- 
tle of the quail, and the bob-o-link, that sweetest songster 
of them all, winged himself from lily to lily in every field, 
attuning his voice in harmony with tlie swaying to and fro 
of each flowery perch, until its tinest vibration ceased when 
the sweet warbler would fly to another and another, and 
encore its own song from its highest to its lowest note. 

When the spot was reached on Ridge Hill where Mrs. 
Simons had formerly met her lover, and bid a final adieu to 
her now deceased sister Mary, it was noticed by Prince 
that she covered her face with both hands and seemed to be 
weeping. When asked a few days after this, by a friend of 
the family, to tell him what Mrs. Simons did on the occasion 
referred to. Prince answered that " Missus Hannah didn't do 
nothin '! she eny just put both hands over her face and cried ! 
That wer all !" 


On reaching John Hazard's, who was a family connection 
and intimate friend of Rowland Robinson, the party were 
met by Mrs. Robinson, who, though not at all well, had 
ventured so far to meet her returning sick child. As may 
be readily supposed, the meeting between mother and daugh- 
ter, after being so long separated under such trying circum- 
stances, was affecting. 

Stopping with their friends a short time to I'est and take 
some refreshments, the party again moved forward. At the 
same time Mrs. Robinson left for home in her one-horse 
chaise — imported from England at great cost, as all covered 
carriages were in that day — and arrived before the sun went 

Old Alexander Gardiner, Sr., lived at that time in a house, 
I remember well, that stood on the west side of the post-road, 
nearly opposite where the lower McSparran, or river, road, 
turns off to the east. The old man being aware of the com- 
ing of the party had dressed himself in his " go-to-meetin' " 
01^ "roast meat", i. e., Sunday dinner, suit of yellow nan- 
keen short breeches, with waistcoat to match, and a semi- 
military blue coat, ornamented with a long row of silver 
Spanish dollar buttons in front, and stood in his door to 
welcome their approach by politely removing from his head 
his imposing cocked hat, and making three several low con- 
ges, first to the poor lady in the litter, next to Mr. Robinson, 
and lastly to the attendants. 

More than fifty years after this event I remember seeing 


Aleck Gardiner, Jr. — then an old man — , standing in the 
same door, wearing a blue coat ornamented with dollar but- 
tons, and upon my remarking on the tasty style of his gar- 
ment the old man told me that he had inherited the coat 
from his deceased father, some forty years or more before, 
and he hoped to hand it down to his son in about as good con- 
dition as it was when he received it. 

This was in the days when shoddy was unknown, and 
cloth was made to wear rather than to sell, and when "go- 
to-meeting" boots passed from generation to generation in 
the same way. It was a custom with many farmers, as soon 
as they returned from "meeting," to fill these last named ex- 
pensive articles "of wear with beans or flax-seed and hang 
them up on pegs until some extraordinary occasion or "meet- 
in' day" called for their use again. The use of flax-seed 
was finally pretty much abandoned, because of a mischievous 
boy, on occasion of his father's whipping him one day, hit- 
ting the old man's suspended boots now and then a sly rap 
with the broom-handle for several days in succession, in 
consequence of which, when his father took them down on 
the next Sunday, he found both split at the toes, through 
the pressure of the slippery flax-seed. 

Some half-mile to the north-west of Aleck Gardiner's there 
lived, since my memory, Ephraim Hazard, a white-headed, 
venerable-looking old man, whom I personally knew, and 
who, Thomas B. Hazard — called Nailor Tom, a man of in- 
exhaustible anecdote — used to say, was the first discoverer 
of a machine that involved in its mechanical construction 
the only true principle of the then much mooted question of 
perpetual motion. In compliance with Ephraim's repeated 
solicitation, "Nailor Tom" called one day to see this won- 
derful invention. He was taken by Eph. into the garret, 
where stood an old woolen yarn spinning-wheel, some four 
feet in diameter. To one of the spokes of this there was 
tied a pair of kitchen tongs, whilst from the opposite there 
dangled a flat-iron. Taking hold of the rim, the old man 


gave the wheel a smart turn with his hand that sent it flying 
around with great speed until the flat-iron dropped to the 
floor. " There, cousin Tom," exclaimed the ingenious me- 
chanic, " if that flat-iron had been a little weightier than 
them kitchen tongs, and them kitchen tongs had been a little 
weightier than that flat-iron, and that old tow string hadn't 
broke, that wheel would have gone round and round, just 
like the world, for ever and ever." 

On the opposite side of the road, a little to the south of 
Aleck Gardiner's, there now stands a house in tolerable 
repair, in which old Poly bins — pronounced Polihus — Austin 
lived since my remembrance, in connection with whom I 
have heard Joshua Custis tell the following anecdote. Mr. 
Custis, who was a deputy-sheriff or constable, having in his 
possession an execution for a debt of some two dollars and 
costs against Polybius that was near expiring, called at his 
house to collect the money. Polybius, not being prepared 
to respond to the demand, was told by the constable that he 
must in that case go with him to Little Rest and be lodged 
in jail. Polybius had three tall, bony, spinister daughters in 
the house, ranging anywhere from the age of forty to fifty 
years, to whom the old man turned in his extremity, and 
tearfully exclaimed, " Gals, are you going to let Josh take 
your old father to jail ?" Upon this frantic appeal of their 
poor father, Waity seized a brand of fire with a huge pair 
of iron tongs. Mehitable followed suit with a shovelful of 
glowing coals, while Thankful snatched up a birch broom 
that filled the water pail, into which she plunged it, so as 
to be ready for action. Thus equipped all three came at the 
poor constable at once, as if driven by " Old Nick " himself. 
Thus set upon by three furies, armed with both fire 
and water, with a most hellish meaning in their eyes as well 
as hands, poor Joshua was glad to make a retreat from the 
premises as speedily as possible. Nor did the discomfited 
sheriff ever dare to invade the old man's castle thereafter, 
preferring to pay the dram-seller the amount of the execu- 


tion from his own pocket, rather than run the risk of receiv- 
ing such a baptism, as he had just escaped from, in an at- 
tempt to enforce a second demand on an old sinner wlio was 
so efficiently guarded and protected by three affectionate 
daughters. When the party were approaching a point a 
little west of the summit of McSparran Hill, a delightful 
spot, marked by a huge boulder, where Mrs. Simons had 
passed so many happy hours and days in her girlhood, she 
requested her father to permit the bearers of the litter to 
leave the road, and take her a short distance across the fields 
to the highest point of the hill. Her wish was of course 
complied with, and the litter was set down on a ledge that 
forms the almost perpendicular rock-bound brow of the hill, 
a little to the eastward of the big boulder that is yet a land- 
mark for vessels arriving on the coast. 

Directly at the foot of the hill, and extending some two 
miles northward, lies Pettaquarascutt Lake, one of the most 
beautiful sheets of water imaginable, that is destined in the 
future to become the Killarney of New England. Among 
other points of interest connected with its white, graveled, 
wood-fringed shores, there still stands in good repair at the 
extreme head of the lake, a two-story house, built by Gilbert 
Stuart. In the north-east chamber of this house his son. 
Gilbert was born, in April, 1756, whose fame as an artist 
will remain so long as the memory of the great original of 
his Washington is revered by the citizens of these United 

The records of St. Paul's church, in Narragansett, contain 
the following entry (see Updike's History, p. 252): "April 
11, 1756, being Palm Sunday, Dr. McSparran read prayers, 
preached, and baptised Gilbert Stuart, son of Gilbert Stuart 
* * * * Sureties the doctor, Mr. Benjamin Mumford and 
Mrs. Hannah Mumford." 

For the following, see ' 'The Early History of Narragan- 
sett," by Elisha R. Potter, Jr., member of Rhode Island 
Historical Society, 1835, page 309 : 


"Stuart. — Gilbert Stuart,the celebrated portrait painter, was 
a native of Narragansett. His father came from Scotland, 
and here married an Anthony. Gilbert was born near Nar- 
row (Pettaquamscutt) river where his father lived. In 1775, 
he went to England, and became a pupil of Benjamin West. 
From London he went to Ireland by invitation from the 
Viceroy, the Duke of Rutland, but did not arrive there until 
after the Duke's decease. He spent several years in Ireland, 
and then returned to his native country, for the express 
purpose of painting General Washington. While abroad 
he married a lady of English family. His last years were 
spent in Boston. For a longer account,see Knapp's Lectures 
on American Literature, page 193, and Dunlap's History of 
the Art of Design. The latter is said by Stuart's friends 
'not to be entirely correct.' " 

The pond from which the small river flows that empties 
into the Pettaquamscutt Lake — a little below the old home- 
stead of the Stuart's — called the Snuff Mill Pond, formerly 
abounded with numerous pike or rather pickerel, reaching 
in some instances more than twenty pounds in weight. 

To the north and the west of the pond above named a 
large tract of woodland extends, while to the north and east 
lies the George Rome — pronounced Roome — estate of some 
seven hundred acres. I can remember when the mansion- 
house of George Rome was in tolerably good repair. 

Updike, in his history of the Narragansett church, says : 
"The mansion-house of Mr. Rome was highly finished and 
furnished. The beds were concealed from view in the wain- 
scots — the rooms might be traversed throughout and not a 
bed for the repose of his guests be seen. This was a matter 
of astonishment for the colonial observer. When the hour 
for retirement arrived, a servant would just give a touch to 
a spring in the ceiling and the visitor's bed, by means of a 
self-adjusting process, would protrude itself as if by the 
effects of magic, ready prepared for the reception of its ten- 
ant. His garden contained the rarest native and exotic va- 


rieties. He lived in splendor and entertained his friends 
with sumptuous hospitality." 

"Mr. Rome," says Updike,"sometimes styled his residence 
'my little country villa,' and again 'Bachelor's Hall.' 'My 
compliments,' writes Mr. Rome to a friend, 'to Col. Stewart. 
May I ask the favor of you both to come and eat a Christ- 
mas dinner with me at Bachelor's Hall, and celebrate the 
festivities of the season in Narragansett woods ? A covy of 
partridges or bevy of quails will be entertainment for the 
colonel and me, while the pike and perch pond will amuse 

"He occasionally gave large parties, at which the ladies 
and gentlemen of Boston, Newport and Narragansett, would 
equally mingle. Punch was the fashionable beverage at that 
period, and the entertainments at Bachelor's Hall were ex- 

It was at one of these entertainments that the most extraor- 
dinary answer to prayer, probably on record, occurred. It 
seems that Lawyer Bourne, of Providence, had indulged to 
such an extent in libations from the enticing punch bowl, 
that his senses became so stupefied, that his boon compan- 
ions really feared life was extinct. It was conceded by the 
host and all present, that something must done, and there 
being no minister of the gospel at hand, in the emergency. 
Lawyer Joe Aplin, of Little Rest Hill — more than half-seas 
over himself — was appealed to by the company, as the next 
best qualified, to offer up a prayer for the restoration of his 

Though totally unused to the vocation thus suddenly cast 
upon him. Lawyer Joe commenced in the vein in which he 
was accustomed to address a Rhode Island judge of the 
Court of Common Pleas, "thinking to be heard for his much 
speaking" rather than from any mitigating circumstances he 
had to offer in behalf 'of his drunken client. After some 
half an hour's maudlin supplication by his friend, poor 
Bourne still showed no signs of returning life, and Aplin 


closed with an impassioned call on the "Lord Jesus, to have 
mercy on poor Bourne, even as he had mercy on the thieves 
on the cross, he being a much greater sinner than either of 
them !" Simultaneous with the last words uttered by Aplin, 
a loud snort issued from the nostrils of Bourne, followed by 
an uproarious burst of laughter, and he was well from that 
moment, and probably the most sober man in the company. 
The last appeal made in his behalf. Bourne said, was too ir- 
resistibly ludicrous even for a dead man to resist. 

It was with Lawyer Joe Aplin that the phrase "bodily 
wit" originated in this wise. Aplin with two of his friends 
went one day fishing for trout in the Silver Spring brook, in 
North Kingstown. After a hard day's sport they went to 
Congdon's tavern in Wickford, to stay the night. On the 
landlord's asking "What luck?" Aplin replied, they had 
caught just three trout which would give them one each for 
their breakfast. On mine host asking further "How big?" 
Lawyer Joe told him that one of the fish was about as long 
as his finger whilst the other two were rather small ! Aplin 
being rather tired went to bed. His companions taking 
advantage of this, had all three of the trout cooked for their 

Next morning not seeing the fish on the breakfast-table, 
Aplin asked the landlord to explain, and was told that they 
had been eaten for supper by his two fellow fishermen the 
night before. This brought the respoiise from the disgusted 
lawyer before indicated, "D— n such bodily wit!" 

Congdon's tavern was also associated with a pleasant anec- 
dote in connection with the famous "John Randolph, of 
Roanoke." Edmund Randolph, Secretary of State under 
Washington, accompanied by his kinsman, John Randolph, of 
Roanoke, and John R. Smith, of Philadelphia, left the city of 
New York on horseback and hastened to Newport to see the 
French minister on official business. From the time the trav- 
elers left New York until they reached Wickford, they had 
been unable to get scarce a thing to eat but fried bacon and 


eggs. Wherever they stopped for the night and inquired 
what was to be had for supper, the reply of the host of 
the tavei-n was uniformly the same — "fried ham and eggs!" — 
greatly to the distaste of the wearied travelers and more es- 
pecially to the disgust of John of Roanoke. 

Wickford has ever been celebrated for both its soft and 
hard shelled clams, the latter being then called by the Indian 
name "quahog." On the arrival of the guests at Congdon's 
tavern, in answer to the usual question, the landlord replied 
"that he could give them clams for supper." At this an- 
nouncement John of Roanoke was so pleased that he abso- 
lutely rubbed the palms of his hands together through gleeful 
emotion. This lasted, however, but a few moments, when 
"mine host" again opened the door to say to his guests "that 
he was sorry the tide was too high to allow of getting clams, 
but that he could give them some capital quahogs. "Good 
God!" exclaimed John of Roanoke, "more bacon !" 


Looking over and beyond the Rome estate and the village 
of Wickford still farther to the north, may be seen the pic- 
tniesqne country bordering on Narragansett Bay, called by 
the Indians Qiiidneset. Still farther in the same direction 
lies Potowomut Neck, whereon since my memor}^ the black- 
smith's shop stood in good repair in which Rhode Island's 
hero — greatest among the great all save one of his country- 
men — forged, with sturd}^ arms, anchors to hold storm-tossed 
ships to their moorings, until at liberty's and his country's 
call he forged his sledge hammer into a sword, and went 
forth to constitute himself one of the two bower anchors 
that held with a vice-like grip the ship of state to her moor- 
ings amidst the storms that assailed the tempest-riven bark 
through the dark days of the Revolution. 

A half-mile or less south of Snuff Mill Pond may yet be 
seen from the hill a gentle declivity on the eastern side of 
the lake, on which since my memory stood a homely cot- 
tage in which lived for many years Theophilus Whalley, 
the regicide, and whose location is mentioned in President 
Styles' history of the Judges of King Charles the First. I 
extract the following from '•' Potter's Early History of Nar- 
ragansett," ptige 311 : 

" Whale or Whalley. — The following account is abridg- 
ed from Styles' history of the Judges of King Charles I. 
Theophilus Whale lived on the Willett farm. He came 
there from Virginia about 1679-80, built an underground hut 
at the north end of the pond, and lived by fishing and by 


writing for the settlers. From his name he was supposed to 
be the judge, and when questioned answered obscurely. Col- 
onel Francis Willett said that the gentlemen who visited 
them from Boston in his father's time treated Whale with 
great respect and furnished him with money. In Queen 
Anne's war, a ship of war whose captain's name was Whale 
anchored near there, and they visited and recognized each 
other as cousins. Whale always used to say that he was of 
collegiate education, had been brought up delicately, and 
had been a captain in the Indian wars in Virginia. He 
knew Hebrew, Greek, &c. He subsisted part of the time 
by weaving. Whale died about 1719-20, aged 104 years." 

A few rods only south of the site of the regicide's former 
residence is the farm which was inherited by the Rev. 
James Carpenter from his father, Willett Carpenter, a de- 
scendant by the mother's side of the Willetts, and who for- 
merly owned and occupied the estate. On this farm is 
quite a large piece of woodland, bordering on the eastern 
shore of the lake, that was planted by Francis Willett, 
grandson of Thomas Willett, an early mayor of the city of 
New York, who purchased a large tract of land in Boston 
Neck from the Indians, and willed it to his son Andrew, the 
father of Francis. 

Tradition says that Francis Willett having but little wood- 
land on the estate he inherited from his father, and thinking- 
he had been defrauded by a neighbor of whom he was in the 
habit of purchasing that needful article, he in a fit of pas- 
sion vowed that his heirs should not be obliged to submit to 
similar impositions, and, with a will and perseverance char- 
acteristic of the period, proceeded to plant a large open field 
with acorns and have the young trees cultivated with the 
hoe until they attained a size that rendered farther cultiva- 
tion unnecessary. 

Following the shore of the lake less than a mile from this 
point south, we come to the first bridge that was built in 
Narragansett, on which Deputy Sheriff Cranston, of North 


Kingstown, was in the olden time compelled to dance under 
the following circumstances. The constable had in his pos- 
session an execution for some three or four dollars against 
one Elias Wilbour, and called at the Rowland Robinson 
farm — then owned and occupied by the late Peleg Gardi- 
ner — , where the old man was at work in the hay field, to 
collect it. The debtor, pleading inability to meet the de- 
mand, was told that he must then go to jail. To this ar- 
rangement Elias readily consented, merely stipulating that 
he should be allowed first to see his employer. The two pro- 
ceeded to the house where Wilbour obtained from Mr. 
Gardiner five dollars due him for past work. The debtor, 
thereupon expressing his readiness to proceed to jail, was 
told by his custodian that it was now unnecessary to take 
him from his work, as he had in his possession more than 
enough money to discharge the execution. Elias, however, 
who was something of a wag in his way, could not be 
made to understand the officer's logic, and insisted that 
he could not part with any of his money, as he should 
want it all to pay his jail board ! '' But," said Cranston, 
" pay the execution with a part of the money only, and I 
won't take you to jail." The force of such reasoning, how- 
ever, old Wilbour could not be made to appreciate, and they 
proceeded on their way towards the jail, the constable try- 
ing his utmost in the meantime to induce his prisoner to dis- 
charge the debt and return to his work, but without success. 
From the first, Cranston had no intention of taking Elias to 
jail, only meaning to frighten him into paying the debt, and 
when they arrived at the bridge, finding he could do nothing 
with the stupid or obstinate old man and his own way thereaf- 
ter not lying in the direction of the jail, he told Elias he might 
go back to his work and let the debt remain unpaid. This 
proposition, however, was repeatedly declined by Wilbour, 
who reminded Cranston that he had told him " he would 
take him to jail, and to jail he meant to go, even if obliged 
to go alone"! After a good deal of colloquy on the subject 


Wilbour finally consented to go back on the condition that 
he himself should be permitted to sing "Old Chavmany 
[Chalmouny] Fair " whilst the deputy sheriff danced it out 
to his tune on the bridge. The latter's business being ur- 
gent, he finally dismounted, and throwing off his coat com- 
plied with Wilbour's demands to the letter, after which 
Cranston went on his way rejoicing that he had got rid of 
his ugly customer, who then went back to the hay field and 
resumed work. 

Less than two miles to the south-easterly from this bridge 
stands the Governor George Brown house, which was occu- 
pied by Geoffrey Hazard, called '' Stout Jeffrey," who if the 
half that is told be true, must have approached nearer in 
physical strength to the fabled Hercules than almost any 
other man known in modern times. I have heard old people 
say that Stout Jeffrey was remarkably broad across the shoul- 
ders, and so thick through the chest that when he stood 
with his face fronting you his head looked as if it were set 
unnaturally far back on his shoulders, and that when his 
back was towards you, it looked as though he stooped, his 
head seeming to project so far in the contrary direction. 

Most marvelous stories used to be told and vouched for 
within my memory of the feats of strength performed by 
Stout Jeffrey, and also those of a sister who married a Wil- 
cox. There may now be seen on the lawn in fj-ont of Row- 
land Hazard's house at Peacedale, in Narragansett, a blue 
stone weighing by the scales sixteen hundred and twenty 
pounds, that Mr. Hazard had drawn with oxen some years 
ago from Stout Jeffrey's homestead in Boston Neck, with 
which the following tradition is associated. Several negroes 
were engaged in laying a wall on the premises, when Stout 
Jeffrey, chancing to observe a large stone lying near by that 
they had neglected to build into the wall, asked why they 
had left it out. ''Cos, massa, it be too heavy," was the reply. 
Thereupon Stout Jeffrey stooped down and taking the stone 
partly on his knees, carried it some twenty feet from the 


wall and dropping it on the ground said, ''Lat that stone lie 
there until a man is found strong enough to put it back 

It was said that Stout Jeffrey and his sister would alter- 
nately lift in playful sport a full barrel of cider — thirty- 
one gallons — by the chimes and holding it up drink at its 
bung—a thing hard to believe in these degenerate days. 

One mile or more farther south stands a large gambrel roof 
house that was built by George Hazard, the father of Thomas 
G. Hazard. Thomas G, Hazard was a successful and wealthy 
farmer, and is said to have been the first agriculturist in 
Rhode Island who used kelp, or sea-weed, as a fertilizer. He 
was the father of the late Dr. Enoch and Benjamin Hazard, 
of Newport, the last named of whom was justly styled "the 
Daniel Webster of Rhode Island." Mr. Hazard was the 
father of six sons, the two above named and George (the 
eldest son), Thomas, Easton, and John. John was purser of 
the frigate General Greene, and died at sea when a young 
man. All the sons were Hazards of the true '"•snip" breed, 
and did their own thinking, in morals, religion and politics. 
Dr. Enoch, who was surpassed in his day by no other physician 
in the State in the successful treatment of disease, was once 
solicited to unite with his medical brethren in putting down 
quacks I ''Quacks !" he indignantly exclaimed, '"all we have 
ever learned of medicine has been from quacks !" 

Thomas G. Hazard married the daughter of Jonathan 
Easton, a lineal descendant of the first Nicholas Easton, one 
of the original proprietors of Aquidneck Island, who, with the 
first Thomas Hazard and Robert Jeffries, laid out the town 
of Newport. 

Thomas G. Hazard's remains lie in the Nicholas Easton 
burial ground, a little south of the Bath road in Newport, 
on the farm now in possession of the heirs of the late Rob- 
ert H. Ives. The spot is marked by a plain slab of stone. 


on which is the following highh^ appropriate insciiption : 

"In memory of 

" Thomas G. Hazard ; 

" A lineal descendant of one of the first emigrants to New 
England and one of the original proprietors and settlers of 
Rhode Island. He inherited that strong cast of character, 
that firmness of purpose and resolute perseverance and un- 
conquerable love of freedom, for which that race of men 
were So signally distinguished." 

Immediately in front of the spot where the party rested, 
near the foot of the hill, some one hundred yards from the 
shore of the lake, there still stands the old parsonage house 
known as "-the Glebe," with the lilac bushes blossoming in 
their season, which were planted by Dr. McSparran — a great 
uncle by marriage of the unfortunate Hannah — in about the 
year 1721, when he first assumed his ministerial duties as 
pastor of St. Paul's Episcopalian church. The former site 
of the church building might recently have been discerned 
near what is called "Pender Zeke Gardiner's corner," on the 
old post-road a little north-west of McSparran Hill. 

Raising the eyes and looking east, Newport presents itself 
so distinctly to the view of the beholder that, though some 
ten miles distant, it appears to be less than five. With 
the help of a glass the hands of the clock on the State House 
may be so plainlj^ seen, that it used to be the practice of 
old John Hazard — called Wickham John — , who lived near 
the summit of the hill, to regulate his time-pieces by it. 

.Passing the eye around the horizon northerly, almost the 
entire area of Narragansett Bay is brought within the scope 
of vision, from Providence to the ocean, with its most dis- 
tant shores and lovely rock-bound islands, dotted with towns 
and villages, and hundreds of farm-houses and other build- 
ings and objects of interest ; the whole checkered and in- 
tersected with numerous arms of the sea and broad sheets 
and straits of shining water, upon which scores of vessels 


of all descriptions with their white sails glistening in the 
sun are to be seen winding to and fro. 

The whole of Boston Neck, some ten miles in extent from 
north to south, and reaching from the high bluff called the 
'' Bonnet," and Westqueag pond and beach of the same 
name and the western coast of Narragansett Bay on the 
east, to the Pettaquamscutt lake and river on the west, 
lies at the beholder's feet. 

I used to hear it told that one of the early Gardiners of Bos- 
ton Neck employed a Dutchman who, by means of big pumps 
operated by wind, drained Westqueag pond entirely dry, 
with the view of applying the land so obtained to agricul- 
tural purposes. Why the original design was not carried 
out, I have never heard. 

There used to hang a large picture in the old Colonel 
John Gardiner house, since my remembrance, in which a 
wrecked ship that ran ashore in a storm on Westqueag beach 
was represented. The ship was from some port in Europe, 
and was freighted in part with live cattle, which were graph- 
ically pictured struggling toward the shore amid the lofty 

Less than two miles south of the Westqueag beach the 
ship Wampoa, freighted with French brandy, silks and fancy 
goods, was run on shore during our last war with Great 
Britain, by the British brig-of-war Orpheus. In 1839, I 
came from Liverpool in the steamship Liverpool, Captain 
Frayer, R. N., Commander. He had been a lieutenant on 
board the Orpheus, and as soon as he learned that I came 
from Narragansett his heart seemed to warm to me as if he 
had found a long-lost friend. Throughout the voyage he 
insisted on my sitting at his right hand at the table, and be- 
stowed upon me the most marked and even affectionate at- 
tention. The Orpheus had cruised in the Rhode Island and 
adjacent waters as a blockader during almost the entire war, 
i and Captain Frayer seemed thoroughly acquainted with 
every inlet, rock and landmark on the Narragansett coast. 


The captain told me that he commanded one of the boats 
that were sent from the Orpheus to fire upon the militia 
that lined the coast, and to destroy the Wampoa, and that 
he would very much like to see an old Quaker that was 
ploughing with a yoke of oxen near the shore, a little to the 
north of where the Wampoa lay stranded, who, so far as he 
could observe, never once deigned to look toward the arma- 
ment from which the cannon and musket balls were raining 
in his direction, but kept on turning his furrows to and fro 
as regularly as though nothing unusual was occurring. I 
have since learned that the "old Quaker," as Captain Frayer 
erroneously supposed him to be, was the late Jolin Perry, Gov. 
George Brown's head-farmer, the father of Robinson Perry, 
of Wakefield, and five other gi'own-up sons, all of whom ai-e 
now living. This reckless man was cousin to Commodore 
Oliver Hazard Perry, who showed still greater coolness of 
temperament on an occasion where bullets and cannon balls 
were falling thick around him somewhere on Lake Erie, 
while he was passing in an open boat from his own burning 
ship to another, to lead her into the thickest of the fight, 
and to victory. 

I remember that the commander of the Orpheus was very 
desirous of obtaining one of the far-famed " Narragansett 
pacers," to present to his wife in England, and that agents 
from Block Island scoured the Narragansett country to find 
a horse of that breed, but without success. Many years be- 
fore most of the favorite pacers had been bought up and 
shipped to wealthy Cuban and Jamaica planters, who paid 
high prices to obtain the easiest going and most sure-footed 
saddle beasts in the country for their wives and daughters. 

After this an agent from Virginia located himself on Tow- 
er Hill, with orders to buy every full-blooded mare he could 
find, without limit as to cost. Hence, the pure Narragan- 
sett pacers are now extinct, although I remember when the 
late James Robinson, grandson of Governor Robinson, used 
to own one of the mixed breed, that on an urgent occasion he 


rode from New London to the South F'eny, a distance of 
forty miles, without stopping for refreshments or rest. 

To return from this digression : From this point on Me- 
Sparran Hill the Pettaquamscutt river may be seen nearly 
its whole length, winding like a belt of burnished silver for 
several miles in a southerly and easterly direction until its 
waters are lost in the sea beside a huge pile of granite call- 
ed the Cormorant Rocks, that lies opposite the north end of 
the magnificent beach that extends in a southerly and wes- 
terly direction more than a mile to the old Narragansett 
Pier, from which the new pier lies about half a mile south. 

This pier was first constructed by John Robinson, a son 
of Gov. William Robinson, not far from the middle of the 
18th century. He then owned most of the land where the 
far-famed summer resort is now located. I have heard my 
father say that when the pier was in process of building a 
son of John Robinson came very near being devoured by one 
of the monstrous sharks called "man-eaters," that frequent- 
ly in those days followed in the track of slave-ships plying 
their horrid traffic largely from Newport and Bristol, in 
Rhode Island, to the Guinea coast, and preyed upon the dead 
and dying negroes that were thrown into the sea from their 
decks. It was said that these sharks, after thus gorging 
themselves during their way across the ocean, became rave- 
nously fond of human flesh, to the exclusion of all other 
species of food. The boy was swimming outside the break- 
ers, where his father observed the fins of a shark moving 
from seaward toward his son. Mr. Robinson with great 
presence of mind called kindly to him to see in how short a 
time he could swim to the shore ! The little fellow at the 
bidding did his best, but had scarcely been caught up in his 
father's arms while still in the water before an enormous 
"man-eater," ravenous and eager in the pursuit, turned on 
his back and desperately darting toward his coveted prey, 
grounded on the sand not many feet from shore, and was dis- 



patched by carpenters who were working on the pier, with 
their broad-axes. 

This pier, now called the "North Pier," passed from the 
Robinsons into the hands of Rowland Robinson sometime 
previous to 1812. It used occasionally to be washed away 
by the violence of the waves. Once after being thus de- 
stroyed it was rebuilt by Mr. Hazard with cabbage palm 
posts brought from Charleston, South Carolina. These 
posts wei-e deemed to be worm proof. Some years after this 
Mr. Hazard exchanged the pier with Captain Robinson Pot- 
ter, of Newport, for a part of the ship Frederic Augustus. 
Joseph Congdon, of Point Judith, for many years a resident 
^ of Shelter Island, afterwards bought the vessel, and resold 

it to George C. Brown, son of Peleg. Mr. Brown in turn 
deeded it to the Narragansett Pier Company. This compa- 
ny built the heavy stone wharf of which only a part is now 
standing, the violence of the sea having reduced it to a ruin. 

As late as 1823 only one little sloop, of about sixteen tons 
burthen, was employed at the Pier, and this vessel ran al- 
most exclusively to Newport. When it was contemplated 
to send her to Providence, placards were posted giving no- 
tice two or three weeks before the sloop sailed for that city. 

The construction of the South Pier was commenced in 
1845 by Joshua Champlin, who built it mostly with his own 
hands, supporting himself in the meantime by fishing with 
hook and line. There is now more business done at the 
South Pier in one week than there ever was at the North 
Pier, previous to its transfer to the Pier company, in many 


To return : In its course the river, some two miles or less 
below the old bridge, passes the Pettaquamscutt rock, sit- 
uated a furlong or more from its west bank, and from which 
the river, according to tradition, received its name, as did 
also the Narragansett country from an island in Point Judith 
Pond, called by the Indians, Nahigansett. (See Potter's His- 
tory, page 4.) Before the bridge was built east of Tower 
Hill village, there was a ford in the Pettaquamscutt river 
opposite the mountain rock, over which I have passed on 
horseback. Between this ford and the sea the Indians call- 
ed the river Monkotage, and all above the ford Mettatuxet. 

I have heard old people say that in the great storm in the 
winter of 1780, a snow-drift commencing on a level with 
the east side of this rock — which must be from sixty to one 
Jiundred feet in perpendicular height — , extended on a reg- 
ularly inclined plain beyond the eastern bank of the frozen 
river into Boston Neck. This seems almost incredible, al- 
though since my remembrance there have been several snow- 
storms in which, I think, snow-drifts have been formed twen- 
ty feet or more deep. 

Early in the winter of 1811-12, I left West Town school 
in Westchester county, Pennsylvania, and came with my 
father to Narragansett. A short time before I left school, 
in answer to a question in geography, I said that snow some- 
times drifted so deep on the coast of New England as to 
cover up sheep to the depth of several feet. For this as- 


sertion the teacher reproved me, and told me not repeat so 
improbable a story again, if I expected to be believed. 

Oar arrival in Newport was shortly after the great Christ- 
mas snow-storm of 1811, when I learned that not only had 
hundreds of sheep perished in the vicinity by being drifted 
up and freezing in the storm, but many cattle and several 
human beings also. Among the latter was Joseph Cundall, 
of Portsmouth, who became so exhausted and bewildered 
while but a few rods from his house in what is now called 
''The Glen," that he gave up striving, and sat down in a 
deep gorge a short distance south of the mill, where his corpse 
was subsequently found under a snow-bank. 

Close by the tdwn of Newport, a farmer — I think the late 
William Bateman — went out with his men to arrest, if pos- 
sible, the progress of a hundred fat wether sheep that were 
drifting before the blinding tempest toward the sea-shore. 
But all their efforts were in vain. To shield themselves 
from the beating of the storm of sleet and snow, the sheep 
in the rear would circle round and round to get in the lee 
of those in front of them, until all were finally edged into 
the sea and lost, with the exception of a few wliose throats 
were cut by one of the men, with his jack-knife. 

I may just here remark, in parenthesis, that in those early 
days there were but few cattle barns, while sheep-sheds were 
unknown in Rhode Island. Their introduction would doubt- 
less have been considered an innovation to be punished with 
ridicule by a vast majority of farmers, on the same principle 
that the clergy of different sects, when taking their turn in 
power, used to torture and burn innovators upon the prac- 
tices and beliefs of their respective time-honored creeds ; 
or as the doctors of medicine now fine and imprison, in sev- 
eral States of this free Union — "God save the mark!" — ,any 
outside innovators on the mediaeval modes of their death- 
dealing craft. 

As we walked along the road on our way to Narragansett 
between the two ferries on Jamestown, we passed by the 


carcases of two dead cows, both of which were under the 
north wall, with nothing but their horns and heads to be 
seen, the snow having been removed so far while their bod- 
ies were covered some feet deep in the drift. 

We also heard of an instance that occurred near the Ferry 
road,either in that or a previous snow-storm, wherein a colored 
man had noticed for some days that the cattle he was in the 
habit of foddering never touched a lock of hay that he had 
thrown on a little sharp rising in the snow. This he was at 
a loss to account for until one morning, in passing, he struck 
off the top of the crust with his hay-fork, when there was 
revealed to sight an old Indian woman sitting bolt upright 
on a stone heap, with her chin resting on both hands, and 
her elbows on her knees, looking, as he said, "-for all the 
world as natral as life, only the poor old squaw was frozen 
stiff aa an icicle." 

I think if ray West Town teacher had been present he 
might have made with perfect propriety an entry in his 
journal similar to one I have heard of, wherein an old New- 
port Quaker, who had never been off the Island, took a trip 
in the stage as far as Bristol Ferry, on the north end, and 
on his return made the following memorandum in his diary : 

''The seventh day of the fifth month. I have this day 
taken the longest journey I ever made in ray life, having 
traveled so far as Bristol Ferry, a distance of nearly twelve 
miles. The journey was fatiguing, and, as it seemed to 
me, not without peril to life and limb, which, however, I 
think I may say, I am not without compensation for, inas- 
much as I was mercifully preserved from all danger, and 
have learned through many experiences that traveling ex- 
pands the mind." 

I remember seeing the frigate President — the largest ship 
then of the United States navy — of forty-four guns. Captain 
Rogers, lying in Newport harbor, which Mr. Samuel Moses 
informs me drew her anchor quite a distance whilst in the 
inner harbor during the storm. Mr. Moses says that the 


sloops-of-war Essex, Argus, and Nautilus also wintered in 
Newport harbor that year. 

When we arrived at Narragansett I heard of many other 
'disasters similar to those I have mentioned. The late Nich- 
olas Hassard, father of the late Edward Hassard, who recent- 
ly kept the extensive livery stable at the corner of Spring 
and Touro streets in Newport, then leased the great Champ- 
lin farm of Christopher G. Champlin, who was a lineal de- 
scendant of the first proprietor. The farm borders upon a 
lake of salt water in Charlestown, in which all of Mr. Has- 
sard's sheep were driven through the violence of tiie storm 
and perished. 

I do hate to pile digression upon digression, but I must be 
allowed to insert here, in parenthesis, one more anecdote. 
Whilst representing Rhode Island in Congress, Mr. Chris- 
topher Champlin got involved in a duel with a hot-temper- 
ed southern member, and received a pistol shot in his face, 
the mark of which he carried to the grave. When his term 
of service expired, and he was again put forward for re-elec- 
tion, an opponent of Champlin learning that old James 
Gould, father of the late Isaac, and grandfather of the pres- 
ent David Gould, was an advocate of Champlin's re-election, 
asked the old man how one of his cloth could support a 
candidate for office who had been shot in the face in a duel. 
"I would not vote for friend Champlin," replied the plain 
old Quaker, "if he had been hit in the back." 

James Gould first commenced his tailoring establishment 
in the year 1763 on the same site where his grandson, David 
Gould, still continues to carry on the business. It is proba- 
bly the oldest establishment of the kind in the United States, 
and has from the beginning always been one of the very 
best conducted and most reliable in all respects, whether in 
Newport or elsewhere. The following three charges follow 
consecutively on James Gould's day-book, now in possession 
of Mr. David J. Gould : 

"July 22, 1775. 

General Nathaniel Greene, 


Blue regimental coat and white broad-cloth jacket, £29 
2 white jean jackets and white jean breeches, 29 

54 buttons, one yard osnabergs, 32s. for wrapper, 4 6 

£62 6 
This was probably the first full military suit ever worn by 
the Revolutionary hero, costing, reckoning the pound at 
twenty shillings colonial currency, nearly two hundred dol- 
lars. Then follows : 

"Gilbert Stuart, 
"White breeches. 

"Abram Redwood, 
"2 jackets and pair jean breeches and pair black knee breech- 

At the time of the great storm before alluded to, my fath- 
er had a small flock of sheep which was placed under the 
care of old Benny Nichols, so often referred to in these 
papers. Among these sheep were two ewes of the creeper or 
otter sheep, so called, it is supposed, from the peculiar short- 
ness of their legs. One of these sheep lay drifted under a 
snow-bank twenty-one days. The place where it lay was 
discovered by old Benny, from chancing to notice a small 
hole in the snow not bigger than his finger, called "a breath- 
ing hole," that was made, as is usually the case, by the warm 
breath of the sheep underneath. When taken out the poor 
thing was almost naked, having eaten off its own wool as 
far as it was within reach. Old Debby Nichols — Benjamin's 
wife — fed the sheep, at first very cautiously with a little 
warm milk, gradually increasing the quantity until it got 
strong enough to digest its ordinary food. When restored 
to health, the old woman dressed the naked sheep in a suit 
of clothes made out of old ragged garments of her husband's. 
It was several days, however, before the flock would permit 
its approach in so unsightly a garb. My father gave me 
these two creeper sheep, and their two years' fleeces, togeth- 


er with one fleece from their progeny, constituted the sole 
capital with which I engaged in the woolen nianufticturing 
business, in 1814, when I was in my seventeenth year. 

I have since learned that the first creeper sheep originated 
on an island in Maine or Massachusetts, on occasion of the 
mother being frightened, when conceiving, by an otter. If 
this is so, I think the sudden shock may have imparted to 
the incipient embryo not only some of the external 
characteristics of the otter, but some of its instincts also ; for 
I remember, that when these two otter sheep — then old — 
were put on the othei" side of a wide mill pond, in the year 
1819, away from the usual haunts, they both took to the water 
and swam back again. A peculiarity of these creeper sheep 
is that their progeny are always born either with limbs of 
the ordinary length, like other sheep, or with the short otter 
legs, but never of a medium length. 

From the year 1812 until about the year 1865, 1 was never 
without more or less of this breed. At one time, having a 
very fine creeper buck, I made the attempt to propagate a 
distinct breed. I, howaver, was soon forced to abandon the 
project, as I found there would nevertheless still be about 
an equal number of long-legged and short-legged lambs, and 
that while many of the latter would be as perfect and beau- 
tiful as pictures, many others would be born objects of de- 
formity, with crooked, ungainly legs, some so short that the 
wool on the belly of the unsightly thing would actually 
drag on the ground, as it went waddling along, more like 
an old farm duck in its motions than a four-legged animal. 
Strangely enough I have not owned an otter sheep for sev- 
eral years past, nor until just after I finished the last para- 
graph, when my attention happened to be called to a lovely, 
little, long-tailed, black-faced ewe lamb of the genuine 
breed, that had recently been brought from Quidneset, in 
North Kingstown — the first I had seen for some years. I 
purchased it and now have it at Vaucluse. 

The winter of 1818-19 was so mild that farmers plough- 


ed in every month. That of 1819-20 was correspondingly 
severe. There were in this winter three separate snow- 
storms in one week. During the last there was the deepest 
fall of snow ever remembered by the oldest inhabitant in 
South Kingstown. At that time I was living with my father 
in a house situated on the old "Jeremy Niles estate" — call- 
ed Delacarlia — within the south-eastern limits of Peacedale 
on the old colonial highway opposite the Point Judith road. 
My father purchased this property before the yeai- 1819, 
of Jeremiah Niles Potter, who was a family connection or 
descendant of the Niles family. I think I can remember 
seeing old Jeremiah Niles riding out with a scarlet coat, 
cocked hat, and sword by his side, attended by a servant on 
a horse in the rear. Of this fact I am not, however, entire- 
ly certain, though I feel sure as the school-boy said that " I 
almost remember it." and think there is little doubt that the 
old gentleman was the last who adhered strictly to the olden 
time custom of the Narragansett gentry in these respects. 

Some two or three furlongs to the west of the old Jeremy 
Niles house — which is yet standing in a dilapidated condi- 
tion — there stood within a few years on a pleasant rising 
ground a little to the east of the Saucatucket river where 
it is lost in the Wakefield mill pond, the homestead house of 
Thomas B. Hazard, called "Nailor Tom." 

Nailor Tom's blacksmith shop stood on a little abrupt 
knoll on the west side of where the road between Peace- 
dale and Wakefield now runs, nearly opposite the remains 
of an old mill-dam, the first that was built in Narragansett. 
The house was said to have been one of the first six houses 
— before referred to — that were built between Franklin Fer- 
ry and the Pawcatucket river. It was here, if tradition is 
to be relied upon, where the crews of pirate vessels used 
to resort in olden times when the coast was sparsely peopled, 
and hold high carnival. I remember to have seen a rusty 
portion of the scabbard of a sword, and I think some other 
relics of the kind, that were ploughed up in the adjacent 


ground. Of course Captain Kidd buried a treasure box in 
the neighborhood, and with it one of his crew to keep guard 
over the gold, as was always the custom of that terrible 
freebooter. Of this there is little doubt, as I saw when a 
boy a big hole that was dug one night in the Wilson woods 
by some one who was said to be in search of money. I have 
also seen another pit of the same kind at Adams' Hollow, a 
little north of the borough of Bristol in Pennsylvania, and 
have heard of other excavations being made for like pur- 
poses in various localities along the sea-coast of the Eastern 
and Middle States. 

Thomas B. Hazard was a most remarkable man. His fund 
of anecdote and old time historical and biographical knowl- 
edge seemed inexhaustible. During the most of a long life 
he kept a daily record of passing local events, which was so 
often brought into court as evidence that the "Blue Book," 
as it was popularly called, was at length "ruled out of court," 
on the alleged ground that its endless memoranda of dates 
and corresponding events, when sworn to by Nailor Tom, 
tended to unsettle not only the titles of real estate, but, 
through litigation, the peace of the community. I learn 
that the Blue Book is now in the Redwood Library. I think 
it might more properly be deposited with the Rhode Island 
Historical Society. Thomas B. Hazard died in 1845, aged 
ninety years. 


I can remember when there were but seven houses on both 
sides of the Saucatucket river and Rocky brook, witliin the 
limits of the three villages now containing many hundreds. 

The first was the old Robert Rodman house on Rocky 
brook, which is still standing. 

The second was the old Benjamin (Benny) Rodman house, 
at Peacedale, which stood on the site of J. Newbold Hazard's 
present fine residence. I knew old Benny Rodman for many 
years well. He was as harmless a man as ever walked on 
God's footstool, although like the Newport Quaker before 
alluded to, he had seen but little of the world. In convers- 
ing with the old man one day, I chanced to refer to "the 
head of the Pettaquamscutt cove," a rather noted localit}^ 
about a mile and a half from the house where he was born 
and had then lived nearly ninety years, and remarked that 
he was of course well acquainted with the locality. "No,"' 
replied uncle Benny, "I have not traveled much, and have 
never been there." There now stands on the west end of 
the Peacedale mill-dam a large buttonwood tree, called to 
this day "Old Benny Rodman's horse-whip," which is said 
to have grown from a twig the old man stuck into the ground 
when a small boy; after having used it for the purpose indi- 
cated. He died aged ninety and over. Just before passing 
away, in answer to a friend's inquiry a^ to how he felt with 
death in near prospect, the old man replied, "as the saying 
is, I feel "as easy as an old shoe.' " 

The third was the Thomas B. Hazard house, before refer- 


red to, that stood on the site of the house built and occupied 
by the late Thomas Armstrong. 

The fourth was the old Enoch Lewis house — now demol- 
ished - that stood direct!}^ on the bank of a deep gully or 
gulch near the Wakefield mill pond, in the elbow of the 
road, now called Columbia corner. 

It was on the morning of a second day of the week that 
Friends passed this point on their way to Tower Hill month- 
ly meeting under a clear sun, and when they returned less 
than three hours later, several thousand cartloads of earth 
had been removed by a heavy fall of rain that took place in 
a thunder shower and washed out the gully. 

Speaking of Enoch Lewis, Updike in his ''History of the 
Narragansett Church," says : "Mi-. J. P. Hazard, in a com- 
munication, states that 'within ten years one of my aged neigh- 
bors (Enoch Lewis), since deceased, informed me that he 
had been to Virginia as one of the riding boys, to return a 
similar visit of the Virginians to this section, in a contest 
on the turf; and that such visits were common with the 
racing sportsmen of Narragansett and Virginia, when he was 
a boy. Like the old English country-gentlemen from whom 
they were descended, they were a horse-racing, fox-hunting, 
feasting generation.' " 

The fifth was the Rodman Carpenter house, built by Dan- 
iel Coon, a former owner of the "old mill" as the grist-mill at 
Wakefield used to be called. This house has been recently 
taken down by Robert Rodman, a descendant of the old 
Narragansett Rodman family, and present owner of the 
Wakefield mills, who is, from all I hear, probably a man of as 
sterling qualities as any other in the State of Rhode Island. 
Both in Mr. Rodman's person and that of a family connec 
tion of his, the late Augustus Hazard of Enfield, Connecti- 
cut, the old adage, "Blood will tell," has been amply verified. 

Thomas S. Hazard, the father of Augustus and Clark 
Rodman, the father of Robert, were lineal descendants of 
ancient and highly respected families, although they both 


became so reduced in circumstances that they were obliged 
to support their families by daily toil. The two families 
lived at one time in adjoining tenements belonging to me, 
for which they paid twenty dollars each per annum. The 
late Augustus Hazard, the son of Thomas S., finally earned, 
through his own industry, superior business qualifications 
and upright dealing, the Enfield powder works, which sup- 
plied a very large portion of the ammunition that was used 
in our late fratricidal war. He left an immense estate to 
his heirs. A daughter of Augustus married Governor Bul- 
lock, of Massachusetts. 

Robert Rodman worked, when a boy, in a woolen manu- 
factory. From this condition he rose to become the owner 
of several cotton and woolen mills. When the like pecuniary 
misfortunes assailed him that often sweep away the earnings 
of thousands, he compromised with his creditors, and com- 
menced business anew. Fortune smiled on his honest and 
intelligent efforts, and in a few years he earned enough to 
pay every creditor in full to the last cent, principal and in- 
terest, and now stands in the community as a continual re- 
buke and rock of offense to the thousands of unpunished 
villains who live in luxury on the plunder of corporations 
— not sparing even the mite of the widow nor penny of the 
orphan that had been entrusted to their deceitful keeping in 
savings banks and otherwise — ,and in the sight of God, "that 
noblest of his works, AN HONEST MAN !" 

The sixth was the old Cuddymonk house, before refer- 
red to, that stood on the west side of Wakefield mill pond 
near the dam, on the site occupied by a house built some 
half century since by Jonathan N. Hazard for his mother 
and sisters. 

The seventh and last was the old Thomas Gould house, 
yet standing on the west side of the road that runs north 
from Wakefield on the west side of the pond, about a half 
mile from that village. 

I feel that I owe repeated apologies to my readers for these 


everlasting departures and ramifications, but the fact is, 
that to me the Narragansett country is so affluent in asso- 
ciations that I cannot commence on one subject without its 
suggesting or leading me off into scores of incidents that 
offer themselves as readily to my mind as Sancho Panza's 
never ending proverbs, piled one upon another, did to his, 
to the great annoyance and disgust of his master Don Quix- 

To return to the great snow-storm of 1820. I had at that 
time one flock of sheep in a field about thirty rods from my 
fathers house, and another flock of about two hundred on 
a meadow of eighty acres in extent on a farm now owned by 
my brother Joseph, lying a little to the south of Narragan- 
sett Pier, on which "Hazard Castle" stands. 

The tempest was fearful throughout the night, and the 
next morning, so soon as the day dawned, if indeed it might 
be said to dawn at all, I got up, and after telling a sturdy 
Irishman by the name of Daniel Harris to see to my sheep 
near home, I, without eating a mouthful, left our^front door 
on my hands and knees and proceeded on my way to the 
Point Judith farm, a distance of more than three miles. Oc- 
casionally I came to bleak spots where the snow was blown 
away so that I could walk short distances, and occasionally 
to deep hollows where the snow lay from ten to thirty or 
more feet in depth, on which I was obliged to lie down at 
full length and make my way, hand over hand, in a swim- 
ming position. I could not look an instant to the windward 
because of the blinding snow, but kept my course solely by 
what I discerned dimly to the leeward. When I got to the 
conical hill in the Mumford land, that lies to the south of 
where the Tower Hill House now stands, I found there 
a goose with its neck all bloody, it having no doubt been 
abandoned by a fox, after in vain endeavoring to lug it 
through the storm and over the drifts of snow. This goose 
I took in charge and dragged it with me to Nat. Mumford's, 


where I left it with him at his back door, none of the family 
having been out of doors as yet. 

After some hours' unabated effort, I arrived at the "Great 
Meadow," where I found that some two-thirds of my sheep 
lay under a snow-bank that made out from a hay-stack 3'ard, 
in the lee of which they sought shelter. I next went some 
eighty rods to a house, one end of which was occupied by 
Tom Aaron, a fall-blood Indian, and his family, and the 
other by a half-blood named George Amnion, in order to bor- 
row some tools with which to dig out my sheep. All the 
implement I could obtain was a common field hoe, the blade 
of which was broken short off in the middle. 

I will stop just here to say that I borrowed this half hoe 
of George, who occupied the east end of the house. The 
room I entered had a big snow-bank under the window, most 
of the panes of which were broken and their places supplied 
with bundles of rags, through one of which the wind and 
snow were blowing without hindrance. Upon my asking 
George's wife why she didn't stop up the broken pane, she 
told me the rags with which it had been stuffed had blown 
out and then lay on the floor underneath the snow-bank, and 
moreover, she was " afeared to stop up the whole of the 
lights, lest the window should all blow in, in a heap !" The 
entire furniture of the room consisted of the broken hoe, two 
old milking-stools, a water-pail with a tow-string for a bail 
with a squash-shell-dipper frozen within it, a broken-handled 
skillet, and a stub broom. Nor was there a stick of wood or 
brush to be seen in or about the house. Three shivering, 
half-naked little children sat huddled together, partly cover- 
ed by a torn, threadbare, scanty blanket, with their feet thrust 
into the cold ashes, " playing," as the drunken father, with a 
comical, maudlin grimace, observed between his hiccups, 
" make b'lieve warm themselves !" The children were trying 
to munch some small potatoes that had been twice frozen, 
once before they were boiled, on the previous day, and again 
after the brush fire had burned out and left them to freeze 


in the skillet where it stood. On my remarking to the mother 
that I should think the poor things would cry with the cold 
and hunger they were enduring, she said " she guessed the 
little varmints ihout if they had ever larnt how !" 

Again, I want the reader to bear with me while I relate an 
anecdote about George Ammon and Tom Aaron. Tom claim- 
ed that he was entitled to a bounty, on the alleged ground 
that he served his country during the Revolutionary war. 
Taking George with him, the two proceeded to Providence, 
where Tom laid his claim before a commissioner for pensions. 
The commissioner asked Tom for proof of his having served 
in the war. Tom referred him to his friend George, who was 
about half Tom's age. George was accordingly qualified, and 
swore point-blank that he knew Tom "'sarved in the war, 
sartin." The commissioner queried with George to know 
how so young an Indian as he appeared to be could know 
anything of the facts. " Why," said George, " I know Tom 
sarved at Red Bank fight, for he told me so hisself, and I 
never knowed him to lie more'n a dozen times in all my life." 
The parties were dismissed unsatisfied. 

With the broken hoe I succeeded in rescuing all my sheep 
alive except four, which were found dead some weeks later, 
after the melting of the snow. I fed the flock with hay, and 
then worked my way on my hands and knees most of the 
way, to Solomon Carpenter's, some fifty rods south, and en- 
gaged his son Hazard to feed my sheep until the snow froze 
or a path was beaten so that I could attend to them myself. 

A tenant of my father, named Benjamin Northup, had at 
this time keeping on hay he had mown at the " Great Point 
Judith Meadow," some thirtj^ or more head of cattle. These 
had all sought refuge in the swamp lying on the west end of 
the farm, where I followed them, every inch of the way on 
my hands and knees, as the snow lay level among the bushes 
three or more feet deep, and succeeded in making them wal- 
low through it half a mile or more, measured on an air line. 


to a stack of hay near the sea, belonging to the owner of the 
cattle, where I foddered them. 

By this time the storm had somewhat moderated in vio- 
lence, but not until a large group of my sheep had been drift- 
ed up a second time. I again rescued these and then took 
my departure by the sea-coast line, wading in the water at 
times knee-deep, as the tremendous seas advanced. The 
snow had been piled up in a line on the beach by the ebbing 
and returning waves, in some places three or four feet in 
height, in a perpendicular sea-wall, over which I found it at 
times difficult to climb in time to escape from the breakers 
that ever and anon threatened to overtake me. As I passed 
the Indian and Flat rocks the scene was too grand to be con- 
ceived of in its absence, much less described. Thunder could 
scarcely have been heard amid the roar of the wind and 
waves. In their mighty sweep the latter would draw back, 
leaving the ocean bed almost bare a long distance from the 
shore, and then return with a force that would seem to shake 
the foundation of those " everlasting rocks," merging them 
entirely in their foaming crests and casting their spray in 
showers many rods upward on the sward. I have seen Ni- 
agara more than once, but in grandeur and sublimity of power 
that stupendous fall of water bears no comparison to the up- 
heaval of the ocean's waves and war of the elements I then 

I kept the coast line until I came opposite the house of the 
late James Robinson, which is now built intact into the 
Sprague Castle as a component part — the two gable ends of 
the old mansion only are to be seen — where I supped and 
stayed the night. It was about dark when I arrived. From 
daylight I had not taken a morsel of food or drink, nor had 
I for one minute relaxed my efforts, having been in a perspira- 
tion every moment of the time. The easiest part of my 
journeying was when I was walking on the edge of the 
breakers, a large part of the way on slippery stones, and at 
times half knee-deep in water. I must have gone over not 


less than ten miles of ground, or rather snow during the day, 
three-quarters of that distance at least on my hands and 

The snow froze that night so as to bear, and I reached home 
with comparative ease the next morning. As I walked along 
on the frozen crust I was for a long while unable to account 
for an unusual sound that was constantly assailing my ear, 
resembling the wheezing of a broken-winded horse. I stopped 
repeatedly, but could see nothing but the pure white snow in 
every direction. I became really alarmed, and was about to 
conclude that the unwonted sounds proceeded from some 
supernatural source, when I luckily discovered that they 
came from my own lungs, having absolutely "• broken my 
wind" through the violent and prolonged effort 1 had been 
subjected to on the day previous. From this malady I did 
not recover for many years, if, indeed, I have fully surmount- 
ed it yet, of which fact I have some doubt, as at times I fancy 
I can detect signs in my constitution of the no distant ap- 
proach of premature old age. 

On enquiring of our stout hired man, when I got home, 
how the sheep near the house had fared, I found that he 
could not tell me, as he had not been able, as he said, to get 
to them. Nor could I hear of a single person in the town who 
had left the house on that terrible day, beside myself; nor 
did a vehicle of any kind, or horse, pass the post-road for 
several weeks aftei- this last of the three snow-storms that 
all occurred in the same week in the winter of 1819-20. 

On examining my pockets I found that I had lost every- 
thing they contained when I started in the morning, consist- 
ing of a pen-knife, silver-case pencil, pocket comb, two Eng- 
lish guineas, some silver change and other trifles. All had 
been deposited probably in drifts of snow, varying from five 
to twenty feet in depth. 

Some few years after this I foddered with my own hands, 
on several separate lots, on what is still called the "Hun- 
dred Acres," a little south of the village of Tower Hill, 


about eight hundred sheep and some sixty head of young 
cattle. Samuel Clark, a neighbor, wlio then lived on my 
grandfather's homestead estate, came along just as I had fin- 
ished feeding the sheep with hay, and we both agreed that 
a more lovely winter evening was never seen by either of us. 
The sun was shining mellow and bright when it went down, 
and the air was imbued with such a gulf-stream-like softness 
that one might seemingly bathe in it. As I proceeded home- 
ward — some two miles, in a south-western direction — I ob- 
served ahead of me a smooth bank rising in the hori- 
zon. Before morning a snow-storm commenced which, 
though not so deep, exceeded in severity in some respects, 
the one just referred to. 

As in the former instance I left the house at break of day 
and made my way by beating to and fro against the storm 
and sleet, as a vessel makes its way against a head wind un- 
til I reached the Hundred Acres. When I got there I found 
myself utterly powerless to do anything whatever for the re- 
lief of my pattle and sheep amidst the blinding tempest that 
fairly outroared the ocean waves and darkened the heavens 
above. My cattle had all sought refuge in the recesses of 
a thick swamp, whilst my sheep, that I had left on the love- 
ly summer-like evening before feeding contentedly in the 
golden sunshine, had been driven and scattered in all direc- 
tions to the leeward before the icy gale and drifted under 
the hard packed snow on the lee sides of the stone walls by 
fifties and hundreds. As before,. I stayed on the ground un- 
til' night, without a mouthful to eat or drink, and became so 
utterly exhausted that I found myself, by repeated experi- 
ments, unable to relax ray muscles a single moment by rest- 
ing on the handle of a hoe I carried in my hand, without 
simultaneously nodding. Being aware of the danger of my 
situation, I combated with all my might an almost irresisti- 
ble inclination to give way to sleep, until I reached home, 
by which means my life was probably preserved. 

Unlike the storm of 1820, the snow in this instance, in- 


stead of lying loosely on the drifted sheep, packed itself so 
closely and hard that a large part of those under the bank's 
were smothered to death. For many days after the storm 
subsided I employed men to search with rake-stales the drifts 
for hundreds of rods in extent to feel for any sheep that 
might be beneath, by which means some hundreds were 
found, not less than one hundred and fifty of which had 
been smothered to death. 


I have known several other snow-storms in my life similar 
to those I have described, in which, through their severity, 
many sheep and cattle perished in the southern part of Rhode 
Island, where the snow drifts much worse than in the in- 
terior. Several such snow-storms occurred in the winter of 
1740. "The following," says Updike, "is from the Rhode Isl- 
and Republican, dated the 26th of February, 1840, com- 
municated by Henry Bull, Esq. It is stated in a paragraph 
recently published in several papers, that during the cold 
winter of 1740 a man drove a horse and sleigh on the ice from 
Hurlgate, near New York, to Cape Cod. That this feat was 
actually performed is rendered highly probable by the follow- 
ing memorandum, made by Gov. William Greene, of War- 
wick, and found among his papers by one of his descendants, 
Richard W. Ward, Esquire, of the city of New York : — 
' Memorandum of the winter of 1740, O. S. — This winter, 
by all accounts, was the coldest known in New England since 
the memory of man. It began in the early part of November 
with extreme cold, and so continued with considerable snow 
until the first week in December. The weather was then 
fine and warm for three or four days (the General Assembly 
sitting at Newport). Soon after this the weather was again 
so exceedingly cold that the Narragansett Bay was soon frozen 
over, and people passed and repassed from Providence to 
Newport on the ice, and from Newport to Bristol. Occasion- 
ally, however, the ferry-boat passed to Fox Hill. The storms 
of snow fell one upon another until it was almost knee-deep, 


and it lay until the 11th or 12th of January, when a sudden 
thaw laid the earth bare for a few days. This was again 
succeeded by violent cold weather, and in a very few days 
by snow-storms, till the 28th, 29th and 30th of January, when 
the snow fell full three feet deep, in addition to what lay on 
the ground before. * * * The snow in the woods, where 
it had fallen on a level, was supposed to be three feet deep 
on the 10th of March. During the great snow there was a 
great loss of both cattle and sheep ; some were smothered, 
and a great number of sheep were driven into the sea by the 
wind. * * * In the midst of the winter it was frozen 
from the main to Rhode Island, and from thence southward 
out to sea it was reported by the inhabitants that they could 
see nothing but ice.' " 

Again, says Updike: "Dr. McSparran, in a letter to Henry 
Cary, in Ireland, 1752, says : ' As froin my house I can see 
the Atlantic Ocean, I have seen it froze as far as the human 
eye could reach' — undoubtedly referring to the same winter." 

Again, says Updike, p. 201, "Watson, in his ' Historic Tales 
of Olden Times in Pennsylvania,' speaks of it thus : ' The 
winter of 1740-1, agi-eat snow. The winter was very severe 
during the continuance of the great snow. It was in general 
more than three feet deep. The back settlers (says the 
Gazette) subsisted chiefly on the carcases of the deer found 
lying around them. Great part of the gang of the horses and 
cows in the woods also died. * * * Many deer came to 
the plantations and fed on hay with the other creatures. 
Squirrels and birds were found frozen to death.' Kalmsays 
that it began to snow on the 10th of December, and that it 
lay on the ground until the 13th of March, O. S., and that 
some of the stags came to the barns to eat with the cattle, 
and became domesticated thereby." 

So terribly severe was the winter of 1780, when the great 
snow drift at Pettaquamscutt rock was formed, that the ice, 
it was said, made out into the ocean nearly to the edge of 
the Gulf Stream, some fifty or sixty miles from land, and 


wood was sledded across both the ferries from Narragansett 
to Newport with ox teams, a distance on the ice of some six 
miles. Wood rose to thirty dollars a cord in Newport, and 
man}' poor families were driven to the extremity of burning 
the inside partitions and doors of their houses to keep from 

The British had but the fall before abandoned their posses- 
sion of the island, and during their long occupancy of New- 
port, to supply their troops with fuel, every orchard and tree 
on the southern half of the island, including thousands of 
fine black chej-ry trees, that before the coming of the enemy 
lined the sides of the roads for miles in all directions, were 
destroyed by them, with two exceptions only. A pear tree, 
yet partially alive, and standing opposite the house now own- 
ed and occupied by Wm. G. Peckham — son of Daniel, de- 
ceased — and situated on the Bliss road, about one mile north 
of the State House, was spared for some cause, after having 
been partially scarred with the axe. The only other tree left 
standing was the old historic buttonwood tree that now lies 
in ruins on the spot where it fell more than twenty years 
ago, on the Samuel Elam, or Vaucluse, estate. 

This place was named Vaucluse by the old English Quaker 
gentleman from his fancying that a bitter disappointment he 
experienced in a love affair with Miss Redwood, the then 
reigning beauty and belle of Newport, bore some resemblance 
to the torments Petrarch endured through his unfortunate 
passion for Laura. Hence the name, as Petrarch resided at 
Vaucluse, in the south-eastern part of France, not many 
miles from Avignon. Here in Laura's ever pining lover's 
former study, I once dined on trout that were caught in the 
sparkling brook that flows from a subterranean lake navig- 
able for boats lighted with flambeaux — beneath a huge per- 
pendicular mountain rock of granite eight hundred feet in 
height, and holds its murmuring course directly by the poet's 
door. Even this old, time-honored tree at Vaucluse, it 



would appear from a scar on one side, the semi-barbarous 
Hessians quartered in the neighborhood attempted to fell, 
but abandoned their design, probably in despair because of 
its immense size. 

Quite a number of these Hessian soldiers lie buried on the 
Allen estate near by, and among them the commanding 
officer of a regiment, who met his death very strangely. An 
official dinner was given at the old Jew house, so called, 
that stood until within a few years on the site of the house 
now owned and occupied by Mr. Borden Lawton, on the east 
side of the Wapping road, and among the guests was the 
Hessian officer. Amidst the revelry of the hour, some time 
after the event occurred, he was discovered stone-dead, 
sitting, in true military attitude, bolt upright in his chair, 
with his unconscious servant standing behind him, having 
been choked with a mouthful of steak that had been taken 
from the tough round of an old Rhode Island cow. 

The old button wood tree, above named, the trunk of which 
used to be covered with hundreds of the initials of strangers 
and others, who visited it from motives of curiosity, was said 
to be the largest tree on this side of the Alleghany mount- 
ains. It measured about forty-two feet in circumference 
where it entered the ground, and more than twenty-two feet 
in the smallest part of the trunk, before it came to where it 
spread out, some ten feet from the roots, into two forks of 
nearly equal size. One of these forks I measured as it lay 
dead, entirely bereft of bark, and found it to be exactly 
thirty -six inches in diameter, fifty feet from where the tree 
entered the ground. The " big buttonwood" sickened and 
died with the "buttonwood blight" that commenced in 1842, 
simultaneously with the "potato blight." This tree has been 
several times described in the public prints. It seems that 
its memory has been thought worth preserving as a Revolu- 
tiomiry or historic relic, as, a few 3'ears ago, by a written re- 
quest of the faculty of the Smithsonian Institue, I forward- 
ed, through their friend in Providence, a small block riven 


from the heart of a huge limb, to be inserted with other relics 
into a mosaic-made table that it was proposed to exhibit at 
the Centennial Exhibition, When I first purchased Vau- 
cluse, in 1837, there were blocks fastened to a big limb of 
this tree, seventy feet from the ground. These Charles De 
Wolf got a sailor to put in the dizzy position, from which a 
swing was suspended. 

While Mr. De Wolf owned and occupied the place, some 
fifty years ago, I used to hear a good deal of talk about a 
magnificent evening entertainment he gave, in compliment to 
his daughter now living in Newport. At this time all the 
pleasui-e grounds, comprising many acres in extent, were 
lighted up with hundreds of lights placed amid the branches 
of the trees and shrubbery. There were then a multitude of 
avenues, intersecting paths and labyrinthian walks in the 
picturesque hill and dale grounds of Vaucluse, extending 
several miles, in the aggregate, in length. When these were 
thus lighted up with stars in miniature, and promenaded l)y 
scores of tastefully dressed votaries of fashion, passing and 
winding to and fro, with here and there a pair of Cupid's 
gentle votaries seated in some secluded rustic ai-bor, or rose 
and lioneysuckle entwined bower, the whole enlivened with 
instrumental music and dulcet song at every turn, the scene 
presented might well bewilder the imagination and lead the 
enraptured beholders to deem their senses were beguiled 
by a fairy scene brought into existence by the magic wand 
of some sylvan goddess, rather than by beings of mere mor- 
tal mould. 

Samuel Elam, an English gentleman of fortune, inherited 
the Vaucluse estate from his uncle, Jarvis Elam, and laid out 
and commenced the embellishment of the grounds shortly 
after the British left the Island in 1779. Nearly all the mul- 
titude of trees and shrubbery planted were imported by Mr. 
Elam from Europe. To perfect the whole required an im- 
mense outlay of money even in those days when labor cost 
but twenty-five cents or less per day, the day's work being 


from sun to sun. The late Isaac Gould, of Newport, told 
me that he once had Mr. Elam's books of expenses in his pos- 
session, and that the debit side showed an outlay of about 
eighty thousand dollars on the building and ornamental por- 
tion of the estate alone. 

Mr. Elam lived in generous old English style, having his 
winter house on South Main street, Newport. This was the 
same that was owned and occupied by the late Dr. Theophilus 
Dunn at the time of his decease. On each Thursday of the 
week he kept open house for his personal friends, all of whom 
were furnished with a carte blanche to bring with them to 
dinner any strangers from abroad they chose to invite. His 
cellar was stored with the choicest wines and liquors, which, 
though a Quaker himself pledged to "temperance in all 
things," his politeness and good-breeding could not permit 
him to compel his guests to indulge in without the convivial 
assistance of theii- host. Mr. Elam's habit in this respect so 
grew upon him that Friends of his religious persuasion at last 
felt required by their book of discipline to deal with him 
as an offender, because of his laok of sufficient abstinence 
from the intoxicating fluid. He was, in accordance with the 
society's usage, notified that on a certain fourth day of the 
week a committee appointed by the monthly meeting of New- 
port would call at his house on business deemed of impor- 
tance, in the way of counsel and reproof. 

David Buff am, Sr., father of the late David Buffum, Jr., 
of Middletown, was one of the committee announced. Friend 
David was called " the bishop," not because he looked like 
a bishop, but because he looked as it was thought a bishop 
ought to look. He was tall and portly in person, and no one 
who ever met him, clothed in his neat and capacious suit of 
dove-tinted, drab-colored broadcloth coat, short breeches, 
waistcoat and all, with his becoming, not to say command- 
ing, hat of the same color, silver-buckled, glossy shoes and 
flesh-colored stockings, could fail to perceive that he was a 
man of no common mould. In fact, he was one designed by 


nature to be a leader, in whatever position in life he might 
be cast. Friend Buffum, too, knew what was good, whether 
in the way of eating or drinking, and enjoyed it as much as 
any other man. Of all these things the culprit, Samuel Elam, 
was perfectly aware, and he felt sure that if he could get 
friend David on his side, all would yet pass off well. 

It was in the month of November, and, luckily, the fourth 
day of the week designated proved very blustering and chilly. 
To welcome the coming of his friends, brother Samuel, who 
was skillful in the preparation and mixing of the juice of the 
grape, had carefully prepared with his own hands quite a 
large bowl of metheglin, or, rather, sangaree, concocted 
largely of the richest and most delicious wines imaginable, 
and pervaded with quite an ingredient of some forty-year-old 
cognac, of such captivating flavor that a man, though a saint, 
who could be once induced to put it to his lips would be 
quickly rendered unable to resist the fascinating, not to say 
intoxicating, tempter. 

When the committee arrived at Vaucluse, Mr. Elam met 
them at the door, and after«courteously and heartily welcom- 
ing them to the hospitalities of his house, expressed his tender 
concern lest they might have taken cold by their long ex- 
posure to the raw wind that was blowing, adding that he had 
prepared especially for them a hot sangaree, made of such 
harmless materials that they might each one of them drink of 
it largely without its affecting their health injuriously. In a 
most especial manner the courtly old gentleman addressed 
his entreaties to partake freely of the innocent decoction to 
his friend David, reminding him that there were several bad 
cases of influenza abroad, and that nothing was so good a 
preventive of the complaint, after being exposed to the cold, 
as a hot sangaree ! 

After friend Buffum had taken a few sips he seemed fully 
to agree in opinion with his friend Sammy, that the cordial 
prepared had something almost divine in its flavor, whatever 
might be its medicinal qualities. From sipping, Mr. Elam 



was delighted to notice that his genial friend commenced to; 
take full swallowsof the tempting fluid, and from that absolute: 
draughts of half a tumbler or more each. When the minor; 
Friends of the committee — Jonathan D. and Benjamin F. — ;; 
had got sufficiently warm to proceed to business, and made a^ 
move to that effect, they were hoiTor-stricken to perceive; 
that theii- chairman had been smitten with a dizziness or' 
vertigo, and was unable to perform the duties of the com-i 
mission. Mr. Elam manifested great concern, and insisted; 
upon placing his valued guest in bed and sending for a doctor.; 
This arrangement did not, however, meet the views of thei 
majority of the committee, and by their advice and assistance! 
friend David was supported to his carriage by Mr. Elam;! 
nor — such was his com^ern — would the host suJffer his friend! 
to depart without being accompanied by a faithful servant on ! 
horseback, to see him safely home. 

David I'ecovered from the attack, though the effect of thei 
vertigo was observable in his countenance for many weeks; 
afterwards, imparting to it a depressed, or, if it might be soj 
said, a crestfallen look. Especially was this true while hej 
was occupying his accustomed seat at the head of the gallery | 
in the Friends Meeting, and still more noticeably when he 
turned to shake hands with his friend Clark Rodman, who sat j 
next to him, by which the close of the meeting was announced, j 
On such an occasion there seemed to be a furtive expression , 
in the old mini's eye, a shrinking, as it were, from honest! 
Clark's steady gaze, as if the foimer invalid suspected his j 
friend might be thinking of vertigo or some of its kindred] 
associations. '•■ 

Samuel Elam was not called upon again by any disciplina- ' 
ry committee of Friends, but he finally got to indulging so , 
freely in wine, not always without pretty copious infusions 
of cognac, that the coating of his stomach began to manifest \ 
such alarming symptoms that he summoned to his aid the | 
most eminent physicians of Boston. They all recommended! 
abstinence from wine, brandy and highly seasoned dishes. ; 


These prescriptions did not at all agree with their patient's 
long-indulged tastes,. and he at last made a voyage to Lon- 
don for the express purpose of consulting Abernethy. When 
that crabbed old medical stick had finished his examination 
and questioning, he bluntly exclaimed, in the language of 
his nature, ""Foundered, by G-d !" The old gentleman re- 
turned home soon after this discouraging diagnosis had been 
pronounced by the greatest and rudest of all living physi- 
cians, and shortly after his arrival took to his bed in the 
south-east lower room at Vaucluse, where he died not many 
weeks afterward. As "the ruling passion is ever still strong 
in death," I have heard it said by persons who were ac- 
quainted with the facts that, after Mr. Elam had reached 
a condition where he could not enjoy in the least the 
pleasures of the table, he used to summon his housekeeper 
to his sick room every morning and make her state to him 
minutely what she had provided for dinner, insisting to the 
last that his table should be bountifully supplied with the 
best the market afforded. Mr. Elam was buried in the- 
Friends burial ground in Newport. 


Between the magnificent beach, more than once before 
alluded to, that extends from the mouth of Pettaquamscutt 
river to Narragansett Pier, and the coast of Africa, there is 
not ill all the broad Atlantic a solitary shoal, reef, rock or 
island intervening to break the force of the south-easterly 
gales that sometimes prevail and convey, many miles into 
the interior, the roar of the mighty billows, that at such 
seasons thunder against the shore. Nay ! in the September 
gale of 1815, such was the terrific violence of the hurricane 
that the foam was rifted from the crests of the mountain 
waves that lashed the sounding shore, and borne by the wind 
into Connecticut in such volume that vegetation was satu- 
rated, and glass windows encrusted with the salt spray full 
thirty miles from the sea. 

There stood, since my memory, a house near the mouth of 
Pettaquamscutt river, on its south-west bank, twenty rods 
back of the sand hills, that was tenanted at the time of this 
gale b}' the families of James Philips and William Weeden, 
a colored man. It was said by those who were near the 
beach that at an early stage of the storm gale an enormous 
tidal wave, twenty feet or more in height, came rolling in 
before the wind, and swept, at one blow, this house entirely 
away. The huge stone chimney alone stood the first shock, 
and to this Weeden was seen clinging foi- a few minutes until 
it, too, disappeared. 

I have heard it said in my younger days, by old people, 
that one cause why the early settlers of New England built 


such huge stone chimneys, and used such heavy timber for 
the frames of their houses, was from the fact that shortly af- 
ter the country began to be settled by Europeans one of 
these periodical gales occurred that made sad havoc with the 
frail tenements they at first erected. 

Weeden's wife succeeded in getting ou a part of the roof 
with a child under each arm, whom she was forced to drop 
in succession, reaching the shore herself alive, a mile farther 
up the river. Weeden and every other person in the house 
were drowned, except " Old Jim Philips," who, by clinging 
to a buttonwoocl limb, was also landed alive. 

William Knowles, with his oldest son and three of hig work 
people, went down to the Sand Hill Cove beach, in Point 
Judith, to draw up a boat, and were all five washed across 
the beach into the salt pond and drowned. Knowles was 
found some clays after on Ram Island — probably "Narragan- 
sett Island,'' before referred to — a mile and more from the 
beach, with his hands clenched into a hassock of coarse grass, 
showing that he had reached the shore alive, but was too 
much exhausted to arise. 

Surpassingl}^ grand is the view of the ocean from the 
summit of McSparran Hill, stretching in unlimited space in 
an easterly and southerly direction, and bearing on its broad 
expanse scores of vessels, lai-ge and small. Following the 
sea-coast with the e3'e, a mile or so south from the Pier is 
seen an elevated promontory, now ci'owned with a turreted 
stone house, called " Hazard Castle." This building is almost 
hidden amidst many acres of evergreen and other planted 
trees that seem to have formed a close alliance and to have 
uniquel}^ intermingled their branches for mutual defence 
against the storm elements that in the winter continually 
battle around and threaten the existence of every living 

This headland would doubtless soon be washed away, were 
it not protected from the ravages of the devastating waves 


that beat eternally against the bleak coast, by a rock-bound 
coast, and especially b}^ two huge blocks of granite called 
severally the "Indian Rock" and "Flat Rock," The first 
was so named because an Indian was wavshed from it and 
drowned while fishing ; and the other was called the " Flat 
Rock" because of its peculiar formation. Visiting this shore 
a few days after the September gale of 1815, a simple heart- 
ed old man named Stephen Champlin, who lived near by, 
asked me to go with him, a little north of the Flat Rock, to 
the shore of his farm, that he might show me, as he said, " the 
power of Almighty God." Complying with his request, he 
pointed out for my observation some dozen or more square 
and oblong rocks of from two to three feet in thickness and 
as many and more yards in their other dimensions, weighing, 
as I guessed, from one to twenty or more tons each. These, 
through the force of the wind and waves, had been riven 
from their foundations in a huge mass of granite, wherein the 
larger blocks I found by close examination had lain closely 
embedded after the manner of mosaic work or bricks in a 
pavement, almost level with the horizon, with a crevice scarce-' 
ly an inch wide left between them and the parent rock. 
And yet, such was the tremendous force the wind and waves 
brought to bear, through some hydraulic power, or other 
pressure or leverage, applied through these little crevices 
only, that the huge masses were torn from their rock-bound 
foundations and cast upward and along the shore as if they 
had been blocks of cedar. 

A landmark that I was acquainted with at the time, a 
large rock called " Peaked Rock," which old people said was 
placed upon its firm pedestal in a similar gale some fifty years 
before, was toppled from its elevated position, and now lies 
at the foot of the " monarch's former throne." 

The boulder near which Mrs. Simons requested her litter 
to be rested, and which may have been wrenched from some 
drifting iceberg that came in collision with the firm granite 
rock on which it lay during the glacier period, stands on the 


apex of an elevated range that, beginning a mile or more to 
the north, extends almost due south to the old village of 
Rochester. This was the capital of King's Province — after- 
wards called Tower Hill — , where, probably next to " Smith's 
Fort," on the site of the present Updike house in North 
Kingstown, the first house was built in the Narragansett 

Potter, in his Historj-, page 290, says: " Tower Hill was 
probably the place in the purchase first settled. At that 
place are traces of a fortification still remaining, which mark 
with sufficient exactness, the site of Bull's garrison house, 
which was burnt in the war of 1676. The land on and around 
Kingston Hill was probably settled next." 

When 1 was a boy there were eight very large houses 
standing in the village. The court-house and jail were re- 
moved to Little Rest Hill, the new county seat, I think, a 
short time before my remembrance. The first of these, which 
is still standing, stood on the north side of the road running 
east. It was built and occupied by Chief Justice Rowse J. 
Helme, a man of great firmness and unquestioned integrity, 
and admitted to be such even b}" his political enemies, of 
whom he had a full share. The Helme house was bought, 
put in good repair and occupied, some sixty years ago, by 
William Gould, from the island of Rhode Island. Mr. Gould, 
however, became after a time so involved in his pecuniary 
concerns, that he was obliged to part with the Helme estate 
and hire a small house that stands on the south side of the 
road, nearly opposite to it. It was here that I happened 
once to be present at a most afflicting family scene. In pass- 
ing over the "Hill" one day, I heard such lamentable sounds 
issuing from the open window of a lower room in Gould's 
house, that I was led to dismount and enter the door. The 
poor man was sick unto death, and partially demented under 
the fearful prospect of soon having to leave his family of 
little children totally destitute. He lay in bed, holding in 
: his right, hand, the hand of his daughter, a girl of perhaps 


twelve years of age, and that of a little son in his left hand, 
while he continued to repeat in heart-rending tones, "poor 
cliildren ! poor children !" without intermission or variation, 
until, as I was told, he died a short time after my visit. 

The second house was the old Rowland Brown house, 
which stood on the west side of the north road, at its junc- 
tion with the east road. The third was the Robert Brown 
house, that stood a little south of the house just named. The 
fourth was the Arnold Wilson house, that stood on the 
south and west corners of the roads leading to Little Rest 
Hill and the old post-road. The fifth was the John Nichols 
house, still standing on the east side of the old post-road, near 
tiie junction of the road running west. The sixth was the 
Andrew Nichols house, that stood not far from the corner 
south and east of tlie junction of the old, post-road and the 
road running east. The seventh was the old Joseph Hull 
house — built by his father, John Hull — that stood a little 
east of the last named — a very large, wide house. The 
eighth was the old 'Squire John Case house, where Doctor 
Franklin used to stop over night on his journeys to and fro 
between Philadelphia and Boston. This house was occupied 
for some years by the family of Christopher Raymond Perry, 
father of Commodore O. H. Perry, where the latter spent 
several years of his boyhood. Commodore Perry was, how- 
ever, born in a house that formerly stood on his ancestor's 
homestead estate, situated on the borders of the "hill coun- 
try,"^some two miles or more south and .west of Wakefield. 
I remember well the hero of Lake Erie calling and dining at 
my father's house shortly after the conclusion of the war of 
1812 with, Great Britain. On that occasion he took the di- 
mensions and drew a plan with his own hand, of the house 
built by Joseph Congdon, of Peacedale — which is yet stand- 
ing — agreeable to which he had a new house erected on the 
site of that in wliich he was born. After the war of 1812, 
Commodore Perry used to make frequent visits to Narra- 
gansett. On one occasion in returning to Newport on a bit- 


ter cold evening, the ferry-boat stuck on what is called the 
"Saddle Back Rock," just off Rose Island fort. The tide 
was falling, and he and the ferryman — old Polydore Gard- 
ner — were forced to pass most of the night in an open boat, 
and were it not that the commodore compelled the old negro 
to dance most of the time, he would, with his scanty cloth- 
ing, probably have perished with the cold. Sometime after 
this, a passenger on the boat asked Polydore to show him 
where the "old Saddle Back " lay, which the ferryman con- 
sented to do, but failed to point out the exact spot, although 
repeatedly requested to do so, until the keel of the heavy 
ferrj'-boat grated as it passed over the rock." That's old Sad- 
dle Back !"' said Polydore. 

A couple of furlongs or so west of Tower Hill lies a pond 
of a few acres, from which flows "Indian run," so called be- 
cause of an Indian having been pursued on its banks and 
there killed by a white man. The brook flows southerly and 
vsresterly until it unites with the Saucatucket at Peacedale- 
From this point the range continues in a southerly direction 
two miles farther to a deep fissure called "Dorothy Hollow," 
from the circumstances of an old negro woman of that name 
having perished therein, under a snow-drift during a violent 
storm many years ago. 

About one mile south and east of the village used to stand 
the house of Thomas Hazard, my grandfather, in which the 
writer of these papers was born, who was perhaps the first 
man of much influence in New England who labored in be- 
half of tke freedom of the African race. My father used to 
relate how his father's mind first became imbued with the 
conviction that it was wrong to hold negroes in bondage. 
When a young man, on coming home from college (Yale), 
Imy grandfather's father, Robert Hazard, who owned and 
leased probably the largest landed estate farmed by any one 
individual in New England, set his son to oversee his negroes, 
whilst they were engaged under a scorching sun in cultivat- 


ing a field of corn. As my grandfather'sat reading in the 
shade of a tree, his mind went out in sympathy toward the 
poor slaves who were thus forced to labor for others in the 
heat of the sun, when he himself could scarcely keep com- 
fortable while quietly sitting in the shade. This led to 
a train of thought that finally resulted in a convic- 
tion that it was wrong to hold slaves, and when, some 
time after, he wedded Governor William Robinson's eldest 
daughter Elizabeth, and his father was about to establish the 
newly-married couple in life by placing them on a large and 
well-appointed farm, with a suitable number of negro farm 
and house servants, he was shocked on hearing his son 
declare that he could not conscientiously hold his fellow- 
men in bondage, but must conduct his farming and house- 
hold affairs entiiely with the aid of hired labor. After striv- 
ing in vain to dissuade his son from this resolve his irritated 
father, in his anger, threatened to disinherit him. On this 
account a coolness existed between them for several years. 
M}^ grandfather, however, continued to adhere strictly to his 
convictions, and labored faithfully in freedom's cause, in 
unison with the late Moses Brown, of Providence, and es- 
pecially with his personal friend, that great light of the eigh- 
teenth centur}^ John Woolman, of Mount Holly, New Jersey, 
and others, among whom was Jeremiah Austin, who after 
heroically manumitting his one and only slave, labored at 
day wages on my grandfather's farm, for the maintenance of 
his family. Nor did Thomas Hazard relax his efforts in behalf 
of freedom until long after a law was enacted by the Gener- 
al Assembly abolishing slavery in Rhode Island. 

Finally the father also became convinced of the sound- 
ness of his son's views, and though one of the largest slave- 
holders in New England, left, by provision in his will — many 
years previous to the passage of the emancipation act — all 
his slaves free at his death, and divided his property equally 
among his children. 


Robert Hazard, my great-grandfather, was the fourth in 
descent from Thomas Hazard, one of the original purchasers 
of Aquidneck, whose remains lie interred in an old burial 
ground near the west shore of the island, a little north of 
Lawton's Valley, on the farm now owned by the town of 

Tradition says that Thomas Hazard had two brothers, one 
of whom, for military services rendered the British govern- 
ment in Ireland, received from the Crown an extensive grant 
of land situated near Enneskillen, where several wealthy 
and inflential families of the name yet reside. A son of the 
brother, it was said, emigrated to Georgia or Carolina, and 
was the ancestor of the extensive southern branch of the 
Hazard family. 

The earliest land records in the town of Portsmouth, R. I., 
I think, were commenced in the year 1640. In these the 
following entries, transcribed therefrom by my son, Barclay 
Hazard, appear : " June 30, 1658, Thomas Hazard bequeaths 
to Stephen Wilcock, as dowry of his (T. H.'s) daughter, 
Hannah, thirt3'-four acres of land ;" " 1675, January 11, in- 
ventory of estate of Thomas Sheriffe (lately deceased) ;" 
" 1675, May 29, Thomas Hazard under promise of maniage 
with Martha Sheriffe, but disclaims any interest in or control 
of her estate." 

There are also several other records of land transfers by 
Thomas Hazard, and by Robert Hazard, his son, and Mary, 
his wife, on the books dating from 1665 to 1675, not far from 


wliich latter date it is probable the Robert Hazard mention- 
ed emigrated to Narragansett^ and first built and settled, as 
I used to hear old people say in my youth, on or near the 
site of the old John Rose house, a little to the west of what 
is now called Moresfield, in South Kingstown. The tradi- 
tion seems to be fortified in part by documentary testimony. 
Potter, in his History, p 292, says : " The purchasers [of 
Pettaquamscutt], in 1671, conveyed to Robert Hazard five 
hundred acres, bounded north by road, east by Saucatucket, 
south by Edward and Sampson Sherman and west on pur- 
chaser's land. This tract is now owned in part by Rowland 
Hazard, R. F. Noyes, Peleg Weeden and the heirs and as- 
signs of John Rose." Again, says Potter, p. 291 : " Lot No. 
1, of about two hundred acres, was laid out to Mumford, and 
is that part of the Judge William Potter farm, now chiefly 
owned by E. R. Potter, bounded north and west by roads, 
east by Robert Hazard and south by lot No. 2." 

I formerly owned about two hundred acres of the Judge 
William Potter farm, and know that it was bounded largely 
both east and south on the John Rose farm, where tradition 
says Robert Hazard, son of Thomas — the earliest immigrant 
of the name to Rhode Island — first settled in Narragansett, 
and where one of the oldest burying grounds of the famil}' is 
yet to be seen. 

While I owned the eastern portion of the old Judge Wil- 
liam Potter estate, there lived, in a dihipidated tenement on 
the premises, a colored woman named Sherman who had five 
children, all of whom were under eleven years of age, and 
dependent solely on their mother for maintenance. Through 
hard work and exposure, Mrs. Sherman's health broke down, 
and the seeds of consumption developed so rapidl}'^ that she 
became conscious she had not many weeks to live. In this 
debilitated state the heroic mother walked some thiee miles 
to a manufactory, and obtained what was called " a piece to 
weave ; that is, some thirty pounds of yarn to be returned 
from the hand loom in cloth. With this load on her back the 


woman started foi' home. A neighbor of mine passed 
her on the road. The over-wearied creature was then sitting 
on a stone to rest, with the bundle of yarn beside her. In 
answer to queries, Mrs. Sherman confessed that she feared 
the task would prove too great for her in her feeble state of 
health, but said, that, although conscious she must soon die, 
she still hoped to be able to weave " the piece," and get with 
the proceeds of her labor enough " cotton chambra" to make 
each of her children a dress, so that they might be taken to 
the poor-house, after her death, " looking kind of decent." 

The noble martyr did live to weave the yarn into cloth, 
and again managed to get it back to the store, and returned 
with the chambra. This she made into gai-ments for her 
children, and soon after got an old colored woman who 
occupied the other end of the house, to go to James Knowles, 
the keeper of the town's poor, and ask liim to come to her. 
Knowles lived in a brick house — some miles away, not far 
from Worden's pond, commonly called the great pond — that 
stood on the Major Brenton estate and near old Brenton's 
large mansion-house, which I remember well. When Mr. 
Knowles came to see the sick woman some days after he re- 
ceived her message, he found her near death and too ill to 
leave her bed. The oldest daughter had just finished roast- 
ing some potatoes for dinner, and was then in the act of mash- 
ing the biggest one in the lot with a pewter spoon for her 

In scarcely audible accents, the dying woman told the over- 
seer of the poor that she knew he must take her poor children 
away, but begged of him to allow them to stay in the Iiouse 
with her until her body was carried to the grave, adding that 
she had made each one of them a new chambra dress and had 
provided for them a little meal and enough potatoes to last 
them until their mother was gone. " And oh," said she, 
" you will be good to the poor fatherless and motherless 
things, won't you, Mr. Knowles?" No stone now marks, or 
ever marked, the spot where the perishable remains of the 


poor widow were laid away, nor can it, amidst the briers and 
bushes that have overgrown the grave, be discerned by the 
keenest mortal eye, though it is doubtless eternally impress- 
ed on the memory of legions of loving angels. 

Thomas Hazard, the eldest son of the above named Robert, 
owned the six farms on Boston Neck extending from the 
north line of the Jenks farm south to the terminus of the 
point where the Pettaquamscutt river joins the sea. Prob- 
ably his eldest son, Robert, the great farmer, improved at one 
time all of these farms, containing in the aggregate nearly 
fifteen hundred acres, in addition to the great tracts of 
land he himself owned in his own right, lying on and to 
the westward of the Tower Hill and McSparran range, and 
about the Great, or Worden's, pond. 

Miss Emily Hazard, daughter of Benjamin, and Dr. Henry 
E. Turner, both of Newport, have in their possession copies 
of many antique documents,and among others that of the last 
will and testament of the first Thomas Hazard, in which he 
disinherits his only son Robert and his two daughters, be- 
cause, as it would appear, of their opposition to his contem- 
plated or accomplished marriage with Martha Sheriffe, the 
widow of Thomas Sheriffe, to whom he bequeathed all his 
real and personal property. I extract : 

" Imprimis, I give unto my son, Robert Hazard, one shilling, 
to be paid in silver coigne, one month after my death." The 
same to his daughter, Hannah Wilcox. Again, "I give and 
bequeath unto my loving daughter, Martha Potter, wife of 
Icabod Potter, of Portsmouth, one shilling, to be paid one 
month after my death." " Witness whereof I have hereunto 
set my hand and seal the thirteenth day of November, one 
thousand six hundred and seventy-six. 

(Signed) his 

Thomas (T. H.) Hazard. 
Witness, mark 

Thomas Gould, 

John Coggeshall, 

John Heath." 


It seems it was the custom at the time to sign documents 
in monograms or initials, in like form as is exhibited in this 
will. It is perhaps worthy of remark that wherever in the 
old records of Portsmouth, so far as I have observed, the 
name is used as a signature, it is spelled " Hazard," while in 
the body of the documents, it is as uniformly spelled " Has- 
sard." In a very elaborate English genealogical table I have 
before me, up to the fourtli generation the name is spelled 
" Hazard." Then comes Robert " Hasard" in the fifth and 
again Thomas " Hassard" in the sixth. From this time down 
to the twenty-first generation — in the year 1852 inclusive — 
the name, in both the English and Irish branches of the 
family, is uniformly spelled '' Hassard." 

The fact that the name is not spelled alike by different 
branches of the American Hazards might lead one to suppose 
there was more truth than poetry in an answer said to have 
been given by tlie late Benjamin Hazard, of Newport, to a 
question wherein he was asked why my grandfather — Thomas 
Hazard — was called " College Tom." " Because," replied 
the astute and witty lawyer, " he was the only Hazard who 
could write his name!" By far the greater number of the 
American Hazards spell their name as I have last written it, 
though some, as for instance the family of the late Nichols 
Hassard, conform to the English method in this respect. 

Robert Hazard, son of Thomas, is alluded to in the old rec- 
ords as having surveyed certain tracts of land. Again, there 
is deeded " to Robert Hazard, of Portsmouth, shipwright, for 
twenty pounds sterling, 560 acres in King's Province [Narra- 
gansett]." It was either this Robert Hazard, or his grand- 
son Robert, the great farmer, who imported a fine stud-horse 
from Tripoli, called " Snip," whose progeny were much cele- 
brated for their native stamina, high spirit and power of en- 
durance. In time the qualities of the horse became associat- 
ed with those of the family, and where a member proved 
deficient in the characteristics of the self-willed race of in- 
dependent thinkers, he was said not to be of the genuine 


" Snip breed," but to have inlierited his qualities from the 
family of his mother rather than from his father's side. 

Robert Hazard, my great-grandfather, who lived in a house 
that stood since my memory nearly opposite the Tower Hill 
bridge on Boston Neck, was the father of three sons, Thomas, 
Jonathan, and Richard, and one daughter. The daughter 
married Job Watson, who occupied and improved the Dyer 
and Bull farms and other tracts of land lying south and west 
of Tower Hill village. Job, after his marriage, purchased 
several farms on Conanicut and removed to that island. He 
was the most extensive and opulent farmer that ever lived on 
Conanicut. It was said that he sometimes had fully one 
hundred men engaged in his numerous hay fields at the same 
time. He used to occupy witli his family, a portion of the 
year, the Park House, at the head of the Mall, which I have 
heard represented as being, in his day, one of the fine man- 
sions of Newport. Job Watson was the father of five sons, 
all of whom I used to know. They were Job, Walter, Rob- 
ert, Borden, and John ; and each and all exemplified, in 
their stalwart mould of body and mind and uniform gentle- 
manly demeanor, the characteristics of their ''snip" descent. 

My grandfather, Thomas Hazard, was large in person, fully 
six feet in height, and remarkably strong in body, mind and 
will. He was, for nearly or quite half a century a preacher 
among " Friends," one of whose cardinal doctrines is an en- 
tire subjugation of the will to the teachings of the " inner 
light," In his latter days, to illustrate the deceitfulness of 
the human heart, he used to say that although he had sought 
to inculcate this point of doctrine in his preaching from the 
beginning, he at last discovered that he himself had " ruled 
South Kingstown monthly meeting forty years, in his own 
will, before he found it out !" The late William T. Robin- 
son, of New York, a gentleman of the old school and of world- 
wide acquaintance, knew my grandfather intimately, and 
used to say that in general appearance and deportment he 
came the, nearest, in his estimation, to the standard of a truly 


noble man of any person he ever met with. The estimation 
in which Thomas Hazard was lield by his father-in-law may 
be gathered from tradition that has come down through a 
member of the Robinson family. On the occasion of the 
dinner given on tlie day that he was wedded to Governor 
Robinson's eldest daughter, Elizabeth, the father of the bride 
said to the guests at the table, " This day, by the marriage 
of my daughter to '^Fhomas Hazard, I have ennobled my 
family." That this sentiment was prompted purely on 
grounds of personal worth, there can be no doubt, as both 
families were of a like honorable and respected ancestry. I 
may just say here that Thomas and Robert appear to have 
been favorite names in the family of Hazards, both in Eng- 
land and America. My grandmother used to reckon thirty 
Thomas Hazards, all living, and not, as she used to say with 
pride, a drunkard among tliem all. 

Mrs. Mary Hunter, in the diary before quoted from, which 
is in possession of her daughter, Mrs. Eliza Birckhead, of 
Newport, says that Mrs. Dr. Mann, formerly Mrs. William 
Robinson, son of Rowland, had in her possession "a stick," 
that had come down to her former husband as a family heir 
loom, "that was cut in the West Riding of Yorkshire, in 
1737, by the Right Reverend Thomas Robinson, Earl of 
Rokeby." June 14, 1856, Mrs. Hunter enters in her diary, 
'T have been this morning to see two very old and infirm 
persons, Thomas Hornby, aged 91, and his sister, Polly 
McClish, aged 84. Mr. Hornby told me that the old house 
that James Atkinson, the printer, then lived in, was 
built by our ancestor, Rowland Robinson the first, who came 
to this country about the year 1654. Also that the Rogers 
land, situated at the foot of Mary street, was a part of Mr. 
Robinson's farm, and that on his wife going into the garden 
one day to cut a cabbage, she was frightened by some animal 
near the house, and giving the alarm, the work-people rush- 
ed out and killed a wolf !" 

It was while residing in the house now owned and oc- 


cupied by ex-Mayor Atkinson, that Rowland Robinson, as 
tradition holds true, chancing one day to go to the bead of 
Long Wliarf, on the arrival of a ship from England, observ- 
ed among the passengers a young man w^ho so strikingly re- 
sembled his elder brother who, in consequence of a quarrel 
regarding a question of family succession, had been the 
cause of Mr. Robinson's leaving the parental roof in a fit of 
passion — that he v^^as led to inquire the stranger's name. On 
learning that it vras his eldest brother's son, Mr. R. asked 
him home and tendered him the hospitalities of his house, 
but never spoke to him during his stay of a week or longer 
thereafter, although he gave his nephew, on Ins departure, 
enough money wherewith to buy three thousand acres of 
land in Virginia. Before these papers are concluded, it may 
be seen that Rowland Robinson, the father of the "unfortu- 
nate Hannah," inherited this trait of his grandfather's char- 

Mrs. Hunter, in the same authority, continues in her diary, 
"The Hunter estate, now owned by James H. Taylor, was 
built by a man named Hardin, who sold it to Dr. Hunter. 
The Gibbs house on Thames street was built and occupied 
by Gov. Samuel Cranston, of whom Governor Gibbs' father 
(George Gibbs,the great Newport merchant)bought it and car- 
ried on the baking business on the wharf. That owr house on the 
Point — the Governor Nichols house — was owned and occupied 
by Col. Joe. Wanton, the same to whom Queen Anne present- 
ed the silver bowl as a reward for his prowess in capturing the 
pirates." Probably these were the fifteen pirates who were 
hanged at one time, below high water mark, on Gravelly 
Point, near the junction of Washington street with Long 
Wharf. ^ 

This fine house, with its solid mahogany balustrades, was 
built by Governor Nichols, whose daughter married Judge 
Stephen Hassard, of Point Judith — called long Stephen, from 
his great height — , the father of the late Nichols Hassard, 
of Newport, who inherited in a remarkable degree the up- 


right, tall, large form and gentlemanly carriage of his ances- 
tors, and was also a man of generous and noble instincts. I 
personally knew an instance wherein a distinguished citizen 
of Newport was reduced to such straits, through misfortune, 
that he applied one day to Mr. Nichols Hassard for the free 
gift of a dinner at the bounteous table he always spread at 

the Park House. " Come, Mr. ," said Mr. H., "and take 

dinner at my table every da}'^ ! You will always receive 
from me and my family a hearty welcome." 

The Governor Nichols house was owned and occupied for 
many years before his death by the late Hon. William 
Hunter, United States Minister to Brazil, who was probably 
as accomplished a man in classical literature, polite breeding 
and generarkbility, as any other diplomatist that has repre- 
sented the United States at a foreign court. 


The Hon. William Hunter married Mary, daughter of Wil- 
liam T. Robinson — son of Thomas — , a partner of the great 
mercantile house of Franklin & Robinson, in New York, the 
magnitude of whose business transactions — before their still 
greater losses — may be guessed at from the faot'-bf the house 
having lost in the Indian seas the ship Ocean, with a cargo 
of teas, silks, etc., valued at six hundred thousand dollars, on 
which there was no insurance, without its injuriously affect- 
ing their world-wide credit. Of the three prominent mer- 
cantile houses of New York, at that time — "Franklin & Rob- 
inson," "Minturn & Champlin,"and ''Franklin & Minturn — ," 
four of the merchant princes comprising the firms, Robin- 
son, Champlin, and Benjamin and Jonas Minturn, were of 
Narragansett ancestry. It was in the heyday of William T. 
Robinson's prosperity, when he occupied two fine houses, one 
in the city,and the other outside its limits situated on the East 
river, at whicli period several of his beautiful daughters 
were in succession reigning belles, that Miss Mary Robin- 
son, then engaged to be married to a New York gentleman, 
chanced to see for the first time while on a visit at the house 
of her grandfather, Thomas Robinson, in Newport, William 
Hunter at Trinity Church. 

I may just here remark, in parenthesis, that of the four 
most beautiful and graceful women I ever knew, or, I may 
say, ever saw, three of them were from New York City, 
and, singularly enough, all of the Narragansett Robinson 
descent. They were Abby Robinson, fourth daughter of 

hecollections of olden times. 113 

William T. Robinson, who married a Mr. Pierce and was lost 
at sea ; Anna Hazard Barker, eldest daughter of Jacob Barker 
who married Samuel G. Ward, of New York, American 
Financial Agent of the Barings of London ; and Frances Min- 
turn, second daughter of Jonas Minturn, the deceased wife 
of the unworthy writer of these papers. The fourth I will 
leave nameless, to avoid being brought in conflict with 
a score or more of other beauties, each of whom may 
have been led, from some inadvertency of mine, or other 
cause, to suppose that she of all others should be selected to 
fill the vacant place. 

When the church services were ended, and the exuberant 

spirited girl passed down the broad aisle, she asked of a 

friend who that portly, fine looking gentleman was ? Upon 

being told that it was William Hunter, she ejaculated, " I 

mean to marry that man !" The speech was reported to the 

happy swain, and he lost no time in calling with his sister 

on the fascinating damsel, on whose susceptible heart he had 

at first sight made so favorable an impression. What " love 

darts" may have passed between the eyes of the two mutually 

smitten, at the first introduction, I have never heard, but 

probably nothing to greatly dampen the ardor of the aspiring 

lover, although the coyness of the sex had to be of course 

overcome by the pressure of a longer or shorter siege, the 

conducting of which no gay deceiver better understood than 

the accomplished gallant, William Hunter. After many 

passages of flirtation, greatly to the annoyance of Mary's 

Quaker aunts, Abigail, Mary and Amy Robinson — the three 

most talented and accomplished women, Mr. Hunter used to 

say, he ever knew in one family — the love affair culminated 

under the following circumstances. As Mr. Hunter was 

walking up Washington street, one afternoon, with his sister, 

who afterward married into a titled family in France, he 

espied Miss Mary Robinson a short distance in advance of 

• them just as she turned out of Bridge street, on her way to 

her grandfather's, and with the keen perception of apracticed 


adept in the art of bewildering the dear sex, he snatched a 
siiawl off his sister, and hastening on, pressed it about the 
neck and shoulders of his inamorata, with the half whispered 
reproof, " You imprudent creature !" That was all, and yet 
that little act and the few words expi-essed in a half reproach- 
ful tone, suffused in tenderness, and the manner, and all, 
sufficed to soften the heart of the obdurate beauty, and ere 
the love-cooing pair had reached the door of " Quaker 
Tommy Robinson," her affianced lover was forgotten and the 
fickle, giggling '-belle of the Newport season, had more than 
half consented to become the bride of another. I say of the 
" Newport season,'' for the reason that Newport was then, as 
now, the chief summer resort of the elite oi the land, largely, 
in that day, from the Carolinas, Georgia and Virginia. 

I knew the Hon. William Hunter tolerably well, and have 
had him in my house as a guest for many days together, but 
I can not recall to mind a single instance wherein I observed 
him to swerve in the least degree from the standard of a high- 
bred gentleman, or speak disparagingly of others, whatever 
€ause he might have had to complain of their conduct toward 
him. Mr. Hunter miide no formal profession of religion, and 
yet in his last sickness he manifested not the least fear of 
death. On the contrary, I remember calling to see him when 
he lay in a dying condition in his house on " the Point,' 
when he told me, with a sei'ene and happy 'expression of 
countenance, that it was but a few hours before that his feel 
ings under the prospect of a speedy death had been of so- 
ecstatic a nature that he was constrained to request his wife 
and family to leave him alone, lest his joyous emotions might 
prompt him to do or say something that might appear to them 

Singularly enough, I also sat up with William Vernon, 
called Count Vernon, the night before he died, in the house 
of his brother, Samuel Vernon, at the corner of Mary and 
Clarke streets — the house occupied by Count Rochambeau as 
headquarters most of the time the French troops were in 


Newport during the Revolution. The count was a man who 
so totally disregarded the prescribed "ordinances" that he 
was held by most pious neighbors to be a " brand" peculiarl^'^ 
destined for "the burning," and yet when he came to die he 
manifested no fear of the event. Count Vernon had spent a 
large portion of his life in Paris and mingled in the court 
circle of Louis XVI. So complete!}' Frenchified in manners 
had he become that even the discerning populace of Paris 
would not be convinced that he was not a Frenchman, and 
were one day, in the Robespierre and Murat bloody period, 
dragging him by a rope round his neck to a lamp-post to hang 
him, when he was fortunately recognize'd by a passer by and 
released upon the assurance that he was really what he claim- 
ed to be, an American by birth and citizenship. The count 
lay in a very suffering state, and through the night I proba- 
bly wiped from his lips the mucus he was constantly raising, 
many scores of times, but never, in a single instance where- 
in the courtly old gentleman did not, with quite an effort, 
bow his head and falter out the words, " Thank you, sir !" 

Count Vernon received from his deceased father's estate, 
eighty thousand dollars, and when he retui-ned to America 
all he had to show for his fortune ample in that day, was 
fifty-two oil paintings, all by the old masters, which he had 
abundant opportunities to purchase during the French Revo- 
lution at mere nominal prices. On one occasion the count 
sent twelve of these pictures to Boston, on exhibition, and 
had them insured for twenty thousand dollars. After his 
death the entire collection was sold in Newport at auction, 
and netted but a trifle over two thousand dollars. This sale, 
I think, was made in 1834 or 1835. Of them, I purchased 
three paintings, " The Dying Seneca," said to be by Vandyck, 
" The Saint Roque and his Dog," and a small landscape, all 
of them considered to be among the very best in the gallerj-, 
and I have since regretted that I had not bought the whole 

Mrs. Hunter's diary continues : " Colonel Wanton finally 


lost everything, his vast estates being. confiscated, a part of 
which was two large farms on Conanicut. His wife die'd of 
a broken heart in New York. The Zenas Hammond house 
on Bridge street on the Point, was. owned and occupied by 
the father of the Simons who married the beautiful Hannah 
Robinson, daughter of my uncle Rowland." Mrs. Hunter 
says also : " Tliere were two young men taken prisoners on 
board an English vessel of war then in the harbor of New- 
port. They were the sons of a Quaker friend of my grand- 
parents, and their being arrested was through some mistake. 
Their parents applied to my grandfather [Thomas Robinson] 
in great distress, knowing his influence with the English 
party. He was ill at the time with a. periodical attack of 
asthma, and could do nothing but write, which he did." 
This, however, failed to procure the release of the two pris- 
oners, and, continues Mrs. Hunter, '' My grandmother [Sarah 
Robinson] then decided to go on board Wallace's ship, and 
in a personal interview see what female influence could effect. 
She was received at the gangway with great form and courtesy 
by eveiy officer on board. She asked for Captain Wallace, 
was shown into his cabin and made lierself known, stating 
simply her errand and wishes. The commander at once gave 
orders to have the irons stricken from the two young Quakers, 
and they were placed in the boat that brought Mrs. Robin- 
son to his ship, and she had thus the great pleasure and 
triumph of restoring them to their parents." 

I have heard Mr. George W. Carr, of Jamestown, relate an 
anecdote wherein female Quaker influence probably saved a 
house that is yet standing, a little north-west of the East 
Ferry on that island. Some " rebels," whose valor appears 
not to have been tempered with what Falstaff deemed to be 
" the better part," " discretion," were in the habit of dis- 
charging their fowling-pieces, or other small-arms, at night, 
from the eastern shores of Conanicut, in the direction of 
the British vessels lying in the outer harbor of Newport, 
though of course without producing the least effect beyond 


that of annoying the enemy. Captain Wallace obtained the 
names of some of these indiscreet "rebels,"* and sent an 
officer with a squad of men to burn the culprits' houses. Tlie 
husband of Abby Greene, who lived in the old Joseph Greene 
house, yet standing north of the East Ferry, was, if not a 
participant, a sympathizer with the guilty men, and his house 
was marked for destruction. After firing quite a number of 
buildings, the party approached the Greene house, flourish- 
ing a fire-brand to keep it alive. Mrs. Abigail Greene, the 
wife of the owner of the house and mother of tlie late Anna 
Greene, the Quaker preacher, persuaded her excitable hus- 
band to keep in the background while she herself went out 
to meet the incendiaries. As they approached she addressed 
the officer in command, firmly but kindly saying, '' I hope you 
have not come to do us any harm. Come, walk in and I will 
set you something to eat." The officer regarded Mrs. 
Greene's placid features a moment and answered, ^ Dear old 
mother, we won't hurt a hair of your head," and ordered the 
brand of blazing wood to be carefully stamped upon until 
every spark had expired. The party then came into the 
house, and after taking a cup of tea retired with their bless- 
ing, instead of executing their meditated curse. Veiily, 
Solomon spoke truly when he said, '' A soft answer turneth 
away wrath." 

The remains of the first Rowland Robinson were removed 
by Attmore Robinson, of Wakefield, R. I., a lineal descendant 
of his in the fifth degree, from the Friends' burying ground 
on Tower Hill and re-interred in the Wakefield cemetery. 
The headstone bears the following inscription : "Rowland- 
Robinson, born in Cumberland, England, 1654, came to 
America, 1676, married Mary, daughter of John Allen, died, 
1716, interred in Friends' burying ground. Tower Hill, 
South Kingstown, and removed to this place in 1845." 

Under date of November 12, 1877, Mr. Attmore Robinson 
writes : " I would state, from tradition, that the first house 
built by Rowland Robinson, of Cumberland, England [in 


Narragansett], was near the only, short turn in the Point 
Judith road, a little east of the old Natt Armstrong resi- 
dence. The chimney and cellar walls I recollect seeing, 
with some of the old timber lying partly in the cellar walls, 
which was of pine." 

Gov. William Robinson built three houses, all of which 
are yet standing. They were the old Christopher Robinson 
house, near " Kit's pond ;" the John Robinson house, on the 
Narragansett Pier estate, and the Sylvester Robinson house, 
that is merged or built into the Governor Sprague castellated 


I remember when, on the spacious kitchen being removed 
from the old John Robinson liouse, above mentioned, there 
were sixty ox-cart loads of beach sand taken from beneath 
the sleepers which had been used to sand the floor, a large 
portion of which no doubt liad been danced through the 
cracks by the jolly darkies of the olden time, who, in some 
instances, permitted their masters' families to be present at 
their Christmas and other holiday pastimes as a matter of 
favor only. 

The annual corn huskings of Narragansett were in the 
olden time greatly enjoyed by the negroes. Since my re- 
membrance some of the large farmers had many hundred 
bushels husked of an evening. The refreshments provided 
consisted mostly of new cider, apple and mince pies, huge 
loaves of gingerbread, and the never-to-be-dispensed-with 
fiddle. I remember that Dinah Hawkins, a colored woman, 
who lived not far from the famous devil's ring in the Wilson 
woods, lost two infants at one of these night huskings. 
Dinah had a fine pair of twin boys that she was extremely 
proud of, and took them one evening to a husking at Wat 
Watson's farm on which the Tower Hill Hotel now stands, 
that she might, with a mother's fondness and pride, exhibit 
them to her assembled friends. After all had got through 
petting and praising the babies, Dinah laid them down side 
by side asleep on a pile of corn husks. In the meantime, 
amidst the hilarity inspired by the cider and the music, Dinah 
forgot her twins until the heap of corn-stalks on which she 


had laid them was stacked up, babies and all. After tearing- 
down two or three stacks the infants were found, both 
smothered to deajth. Black Cato said he heard something 
squeal two or three times whilst he was making the stack, 
and, supposing the noise to come from a nest of young rats, 
he " stamped on the varmints" till they stopped squeaking. 

Updike, pages 177-78-79, speaks as follows of these negro 
merry-makings : " In imitation of the whites, the negroes 
held an annual election on the third Saturday in June, when 
they elected their governor. When the slaves were numer- 
ous each town held its election. This annual festivity was 
looked for with great anxiety. Party spirit was as violent 
and aciimonious with them as among the whites. The 
slaves assumed the power and pride and took the relative 
lank of their masters, and it was degrading to the reputation 
of the ownei- if the slave appeared in inferior apparel, or 
with less money than the slave of another master of equal 
wealth. The horses of the wealthy landholders were on 
this day all surrendered to the use of the slaves, and with 
cues, real or false, head pomatumed and powdered, cocked 
hat, mounted on the best Narragansett pacers, sometimes 
with their master's sword, with their ladies on pillions, they 
pranced to election, which commenced generally at 10 

" The canvass for votes soon commenced, the tables with 
refreslmients were spread and all friends of the respective 
candidates were solicited to partake, and as much anxiety 
would manifest itself, and as much family pride and influence 
was exercised and interest created, as in other elections, and 
was preceded by weeks of parmateering — parliamenteering. 
About one o'clock the vote would be taken by ranging the 
friends of the respective candidates in two lines under the 
direction of a chief marshal with assistants. Guy Watson, 
who distinguished himself in the black regiment under Gen- 
eral Greene, at Red Bank, and also at Ticonderoga [and in 


the capture of Prescott, Updike might have added], acted as 
chief marshal after the Revolution until the annual elections 
ceased. There was generally a tumultuous crisis until the 
count commenced, when silence was proclaimed, and after 
that no man could change sides or go from one rank to the 
other. The chief marshal announced the number of votes 
for each candidate, and in an audible voice proclaimed the 
name of the governor elected for the ensuing year. The 
election treat corresponded in extravagance in proportion to 
the wealth of the master. Tlie defeated candidate was, 
according to custom, introduced by the chief marshal, and 
drank the first toast after the inauguration, and all animosi- 
ties were forgotten. At dinner the governor was seated at 
the head of the long table, under trees or an arbor, with the 
unsuccessful candidate at his right and his lady on the left. 
The afternoon was spent in dancing, games of quoits, athletic 
exercises, &c. As the slaves decreased in number, these 
elections became more concentrated. In 1795, elections 
were held in North and South Kingstown, but in a few 
years, one was held in South Kingstown only, and they have 
for years ceased, 

" The servant of the late E. R. Potter was elected govern- 
or about the year 1800. The canvass was very expensive 
to his master. Soon after the election, Mr. Potter had a 
conference with the governoi-, and stated to him that the 
one or the other must give up politics, or the expense would 
ruin them both. Governor John took the wisest course, 
abandoned politics and retired to the shades of private life.' 

Notwithstanding what i\lr. Updike says, I feel pretty sure 
that the colored people of South Kingstown held their elec- 
tions long after slavery was abolished. I think I can remem- 
ber when the last came off, which was after the war with 
Great Britain in 1812. It took place in the Potter woods on 
Rose Hill, when I think Aaron Potter, who was brought up 
in the Hon. Elisha R. Potter's family, was elected governor, 



and Abram Perry, who was born under my father's roof, 
officiated as chief marshal. Aaron commenced taking lessons 
in the science of government at an early age. Mr. Potter 
being a tall and large framed man, nearly twice as heavy as 
either of his sons, used to ride a very big, strong horse, and 
sometimes when going about his farm he would take Aaron, 
when a boy, up behind him to open and close bars, as he rode 
from lot to lot. On these occasions Aaron used sometimes 
make his master ride in zigzag directions that he might see 
what a variety of " funny pikters he and the horse and master 
Potter made on the ground in the sunshine." 

The twelve days of Christmas, were almost wholly devoted 
to festivities, by both master and slave in the " Olden-time 
Narragansett." '-' But the wedding," says Updike, page 186, 
" was the great gala of olden time. The exhibition 
of expensive apparel and the attendance of numbers 
almost exceeds belief. The last of these celebrations was 
given about the year 1790, by Nicholas Gardiner, Esq. It 
was attended by six hundred guests." I knew Mr. Gardiner. 
He dressed in the rich style of former days, with a cocked 
hat, full bottomed white wig, snuff colored coat, and waist- 
coat with deep pockets, cape low so as not to disturb the wig, 
and at the same time display the large silver stock buckle of 
the plaited neck cloth of white linen cambric, small clothes, 
and white topped boots, finely polished. He was a portly, 
courteous gentleman of the old school. " The fox-chase, 
with hounds and horns, fishing and fowling, were objects of 
enchanting recreation. Wild pigeons, partridges, quails, 
woodcocks, squirrels and rabbits were innumerable. Such 
were the amusements, pastimes, festivities, and galas of an- 

Governor William Robinson's remains lie in the old family 
burying ground near the Governor Sprague house before 
alluded to, under a heavy slab of stone with the following 
inscription : " In memory of the Hon. William Robinson, 


Esq., late deputy governor of the colony, who departed this 
life Sept. ye IPth, 1751, in the 58th year of his age." 

Rowland T. Robinson, of Ferrisburgh, Vermont, an octo- 
genarian and lineal descendant of Governor Robinson, in the 
fourth degree, writes me under date of DacemberS, 187 7: 
" Governor Robinson was a man of talent, gentlemanly in 
bearing and of noble stature. His son Rowland — father of the 
' unfortunate Hannah' — was six feet high and of symmetrical 
proportions, but his father was larger than he. Rowland used 
to lament the gradual diminution in stature of the Robinsons. 
He would say, ' My grandfather was larger than my father, — 
my father larger than I, and my Bill ! — why, he's nothing!' " 
This " Bill" married a daughter of George Scott, grand- 
daughter of Peter Ayrault, a French refugee, and lived and 
died in tlie Dr. Mann House, at the south-east corner of 
Broadway and Mann avenue, Newport, R. I. 

To return to the main subject once again from this lengthy 
digression. Just before reaching "Dorothy's Hollow," be- 
fore described. Tower Hill — here sometimes called Chimney 
Hill from the old Carter and Jackson chimney — rises to an 
altitude almost equaling that of McSparran, and from its 
summit in a clear sky portions of four different States may 
be seen, and there is spread before the beholder an ocean 
and landscape view of surpassing beauty and sublimity. 

A short distance south of Dorothy Hollow now stands 
the " Tower Hill house," from near which the hill turns to 
the south-west and graduall}'^ falls until it slopes entirely 
away near "Kit's Pond," into what was popularly called 
since my remembrance, " The Crying Bog," from the dole- 
ful sounds of weeping and wailing, as tradition asserts, that 
were often heard to issue therefrom at night, uttered by the 
ghost of Manouua, an Indian squaw of the Narragansett 
tribe, through the dire promptings of a remorseful conscience 
for having, whilst in earth life, cruelly murdered her two 
helpless children and secretly buried their bodies in the bog. 
Nor did the wretched spectre always confine its visitations 


to that immediate locality. Since my memory it used to be 
said, that the unhappy ghost was at times to be seen sitting 
under some old willow trees that, until recently, stood on 
the east side of the Point Judith road, some twenty rods 
south from the Crying Bog, and half as many east of Kit's 
Pond — thus called from the abbreviated Christian name of 
Christopher Robinson. I remember hearing of a stranger, 
who came late on a moonlight evening to Christopher Robin- 
son's, and requested lodgings, under the plea that he was on 
his way to a friend's house who lived on the '•' Point," but 
that as he approached these willow trees he saw an old In- 
dian squaw sitting on the ground beneath them, rocking her- 
self backward and forward, and moaning and weeping most 
dolefully. Nor would she take the least notice of what he 
said until he rode up and took a stone from a wall and rolled 
it against her feet, when she suddenly vanished from his 
sight, uttering such unearthly shrieks as she went that he 
could not force his horse to pass the spot. 

It was said that after passing most of the night in woeful 
lamentations the ghost of the wretched murderess used to 
leave towards morning in the direction of a little wooded isl- 
and that stands in the south-western part of Kit's Pond, ap- 
parently keeping in her rapid course close to the surface of 
the water, and screaming as she went until the horrifying 
sounds reached the island, when all was again still. Many 
other stories analogous to these used to be told in connection 
with " the ghost of the Crying Bog," in my younger days. 

Some thirty or more rods east by south of where the old 
willow trees, before mentioned, formerly stood, the site of 
which is now marked by a buttonwood tree and a bar-way a 
rod or so from the tree, there is still to be seen the stone foun- 
dation and tumble-down chimney of a house on the border 
of a big bog, that was, more than a century ago, occupied by 
an old shoe-maker by the name of Drew. In one of the 
periodical violent snow-storms of early times, this house 
with the exception of the top of the chimney was entirely 


buried in a snow-drift. Old Drew, happening to have a 
good supply of fuel inside the premises, made no effort to 
make a wa^^ out through the snow-bank. When some days 
after the storm, Christopher Robinson, son of Governor Wil- 
liam Robinson, was informed of the circumstances, he sent 
his negroes to open a passage way through the snow to 
Drew'8 door. When they leached the door, the old man 
was found sitting contentedly at work by the light of a tal- 
low candle; and he did not express much gratitude for being 
relieved, as he said it did not take so much fuel to warm his 
room while it was banked up as it did when the snow was 
away. ' Old Drew once went to Newport and hired himself 
out to do journeyman's work. The overseer came into the 
shop in the afternoon, and noticing for the first time the pe- 
culiar woikmanship of his newly hired man, remarked that 
the shoe he was just finishing off was the worst looking 
thing that was ever made in his shop. -'What will you bet 
on that," queried Drew. "Five dollars," was the reply. 
'•Done," said Drew, and opening a drawer, drew out the 
mate of the shoe he was just finishing, that he made in the 
forenoon. The man merely glanced at it and paid the five 
dollars without demur, telling Drew as he handed him the 
money that he might also keep the shoes he had made, in 
lieu of wages. 

Opposite the base of Chimney Hill on the east, there lies 
an irregular arm of Pettaquamscutt river, about a mile in 
length called ''the Cove,"' in which lises very abruptly a high 
pile of rocks covered with forest trees, known as "Goose- 
berry Island." Since my remembrance a French recluse or 
hermit made his home for some time in a granite cleft on 
this island. From his martial bearing and dignified demean- 
or, he was thought by some to have been one of Bonaparte's 
officers, who had been compelled, from some unknown cause, 
to flee his country, and whose brain had become shattered 
■ through the pressure of dire misfortune. 

A furlong further noi'th-west of the picturesque island 


bordering a salt marsh on the Cove may be seen the "Robert 
Hunnohill Meadow," so named from the following appalling 
circumstance. A negro boy ran away from his master of 
that name, who gave out word among the blacks, "that if 
the boy returned home he would not whip him !" The boy 
came back on this promise, when his master said to him, "I 
will not whip thee, Peter, but I will tie thee up and let the 
mosquitoes bite thee !" Tlie poor boy was accordingly tied 
just at night to a stake driven firmly into the salt marsh, 
where in the morning, his thoughtless or hard-hearted mas- 
ter, found him stone-dead, having been bitten to death by 
innumerable mosquitoes that infested the marsh. 


To return again : looking from McSparran Hill, Block 
Island is plainly to be seen in all its breadth, some twenty 
miles to the south, with Montauk Point, the eastern extrem- 
ity of Long Island, lying some few leagues to the westward 
of it. From this point, too, if unbroken tradition can be 
relied upon, there was formerly seen occasionally at night 
the "Palatine ship" all in flames, hovering about the island, 
where the legend asserts a ship freighted with emigrants 
and their effects from Germany in the first half of the eigh- 
teenth century was purposely — as some said — run on shore 
by her captain and crew, for the sake of plunder, whilst 
others said that the vessel was decoyed one dark stormy 
night by means of false lights arranged by the islanders with 
like intent. I remember hearing, when quite 3^oung, of an 

islander by the name of , who was generally well and 

in his right mind except at the season of the year when the 
Palatine ship was wrecked, and after being stripped of every- 
thing of value was set on fire by the land pirates tind burned 
with all the crew and passengers on board. At this partic- 
ular season this old man, it was said, always became madly 
insane, and would rave about seeing a ship all ablaze, with 
men falling from her burning rigging and shrouds, and ever 
and anon shrink in horror from the spectres of two women, 
whose hands he cut off or disabled by blows from a cutlass, as 
they sought to cling to the gunwale of the last boat that 
left the burning ship and all on board to their fate that not 
one might remain alive to bear witness of the terrible catas- 


trophe and crime. Whether the legend is true or false I 
know not, though I do know that many Block Islanders, in 
my early days, firmly believed that the burning Palatine ship 
was often seen near the island. 

My father became possessed, by will of his uncle, Rowland 
Robinson, of two or more farms on Block Island, which he 
leased for some years, and finally sold to several different 
puichasers. This gave occasion for some of the leading and 
most intelligent men, as well as others from Block Island, to 
visit our house in Narragansett, and sometimes pass the 
night. Of course I was always curious to hear about the old 
Palatine ship, and I do not remember an instance wherein 
these several visitors did not bear testimony to the verity of 
tiie phenomenon. On one occasion I remember asking the 
late George Sheffield, who had just arrived at our house 
from Block Island, what he thought the weather would be, 
to which he replied that it would continue fair, but directly 
hesitated, and said to Shedrick Card — a venerable old patri- 
arch, who happened to accompany him — , " Mr. Card, the old 
Palatine loomed up high last night, didn't she ?" Mr. Card 
answered in the affirmative, when the other rejoined, address- 
ing his words to me, '' I was mistaken ; it will be stormy 
soon." It was evident that neither of these men, both of 
whom were very intelligent, had the least doubt of their 
having seen the ship all in flames the night before, and that 
her bona fide appearance was no more than an ordinary 

Since the conclusion of these papers in printed form, I 
have received a very interesting letter from Mr. Benjamin 
Congdon, who, I remember, lived many years ago in a house 
that stood north of the Walcott farm and west of the road 
in Point Judith. Mr. Congdon is now in his ninetieth year 
and was considered by all who knew him in Rhode Island 
to be a man of unusual intelligence and probity. I make the 
following extracts from his letter which is dated " Napoli, 
Cattaraugus Co., New York, March 4, 1878." 


" In 1800, my elder brother attended Robert Rogers' 
Academy in Newport. I was then twelve years old. My 
father had a school kept in a small house, on our farm, for a 
number of years, by the late Thomas Perry, who kept the 
best school I was ever in. Mr. Perr}^ afterwards moved to 
Westerly, and was chosen cashier of the Washington Bank, 
which position he retained until his death, when his son 
Charles succeeded him, who, I think, remains cashier of the 
same bank still, now seventy years since his father first 
assumed the same position. I can recollect well when 
Washington's second term expired, in 1797 ; when John 
Adams became President, followed by Jefferson, and then 
Madison, who was President during the War of 1812. About 
the burning Palatine ship you speak of in your interesting 
papers, I may say that I have seen her eight or ten times or 
more. In those early days nobody doubted her being sent 
by an Almighty Power to punish those wicked men who 
murdered her passengers and crew. After the last of these 
were dead she was never more seen. We lived when I was 
young, in Charlestown, directly opposite Block Island, where 
we used to have a plain view of the burning ship." 

Nearly the whole of the southern coast of Narragansett, 
extending from Point Judith light to Watch Hill, a distance 
ot twenty miles, in almost one continuous beach, against 
which the Atlantic waves never cease to roll, can be both 
seen and often heard from the point on McSparran Hill 
where the party rested. Looming up some ten miles to the 
south-west may also be distinctly seen " Broad Hill," the 
highest point in the district called " the Hills," which em- 
biaces some thirty square miles or more of territory, bound- 
ed partly on the north and west by the shores of Worden's 
Pond, a lake several miles in circumference, the northern 
and north-western extremities of which approach what is 
called the " Great Swamp," where the terrible Indian fight 
took place in 1675, that was instigated solely by the Puritan 
and other bigots of Massachusetts and Connecticut. 


This lovely region of hill and dale is dotted throughout 
with elevated lakes of pure and sparkling water — some of 
them perched on the very summit of conical hills — whose 
gravelly shores and mossy banks are fringed and studded 
with numerous trees, festooned with long pendant moss, with 
countless evergreens of laurel, rhododendron and the all 
glorious kalmia species, which in early summer, while in fall 
bloom, might well, when added to the wild, sweet solitude 
and wierd, heath-like aspect of everything around, lead the 
beholder to fancy he was trespassing on the charmed domain 
of some fairy queen. Looking more than twenty miles over 
the countr}'^ l.yi»g to the west and north-west, the eye rests 
on many objects of interest, "■ Bern use Neck Hill," the 
highest elevation in the southern half of Rhode Island, 
among others. 

As her kind conductors repeatedly changed the position of 
the litter, Mrs. Simons was enabled to see in succession, 
within a short space of time, most of the lovel}'^ landscapes 
and ocean scenery I have endeavored to portray — in what 
readers must accept as one long parenthsis — , with hundreds 
of other objects of interest that went to till up the lovely 
picture that can be described but partially in detail. 

" Old Benny" told me that Mrs. Simons was observed to 
fix her eyes with interest on a withered bunch of what is 
called life-everlasting, that grew a few feet from the big 
boulder on the north side, and that she finally sent Hainiah 
to pluck a sprig of it and pin it on the bosom of her dress. 

From the hill the poor invalid looked down toward the 
east, directly on the enchanting river that winds its course 
below. On its western bank stood the glebe manse, where 
she had passed so many happy days in her girlhood at her 
Aunt McSparran's. Directly in the valley beneath the pre- 
cipitous declivity grew a thickly-planted orchard of wide- 
spreading apple-trees; intermingled with the peach, pear, 
cherry and sweet-smelling locust, all in full bloom, and made 
vocal by the songs of thousands of birds, humming insects 


and murmuring bees, that seemed in the tout ensemble like 
some gigantic fairy nosegay, eral)o\vering in its midst the 
mystic harp of a thousand strings, each toned by angel fin- 
gers, the rich, ascending iucense and melody of which were 
almost too enrapturing for finite senses to partake of and en- 
dure. A little copse of wild honey-suckle and native roses 
were growing witiiin a few yards of the litter, amidst which 
a pair of heaveidy-tinted humming-birds were buoying them- 
selves in the air with rapid wings, invisible like those of the 
angels, while with their little bills they gathered sweets as 
they imperceptibly sped from flower to flower. All around 
the same rocky pasture in which the party was gathered, lay 
scattered here and there groups of sheep listlessly chewing 
the cud, while scores of romping lambs, as is their wont at 
the sun declining time of day and early summer-tide, gather- 
ed ever and anon, on an adjoining ledge, and, at a signal 
known only to kind nature and themselves, would scamper 
away at their utmost speed across the field to another mound, 
where, after gamboling awhile and caressing each other in 
playful sport, they would bound again and again back and 
forth to their self-appointed goals. 

From old Benfly Nichols' account, Mrs. Simons' last re- 
turn to her parental home must have chanced on one of those 
rare, halcyon days, in which nature's elements are so nicely 
attuned that the senses of sight and hearing seem to vie with 
each other in their respective powers, and the one takes 
cognizance of sounds almost as readily as the other of ob- 
jects at like distance. It is recorded that somewhat such a 
state of the atmosphere prevailed at the time a great fire 
occurred at Ceuta, in Africa, when the cries of the firemen 
were heard across the water at Gibraltar, eleven miles distant. 
I have heard, too, old people relate how some men who were 
engaged in mowing on the eastern shore of Boston Neck all 
at once heard anotlier gang of workmen conversing in their 
natural tone of voice on the opposite shore of Conanicut, full 


two miles away, and that then the two parties engaged in 
conversation as readily as if they had been but a few rods 
apart. Suddenly, however, no answer was returned from 
the opposite shore, even when their voices were pitched at 
the highest key. 

As has been said before, Narragansett, and especially 
Boston Neck and the Tower Hill country, were famous in 
those days for the extent and excellence of their dairies. It 
was about time for the evening milking, and in almost every 
direction for miles around herds of idly lowing cows were 
lazily wending their way to the farm-houses, followed by 
loitering boys who ever and anon sauntered out of their way, 
hither and thither, to an isolated bush or hassock, to spy out 
some blackbird's eggs, or mayhap peek closely about the 
sides of moss-covered stones or old impiints of cattle's feet 
for the nests of eggs or younglings of meadow-larks or little 
ground sparrows, and then, to help redeem lost time, hurry 
up their charges with renewed vigor. Old Nichols used to 
tell me that he could hear these boys halloo to their herds 
when two miles or more away, and what seemed strange to 
him, the sounds reached his ear with equal distinctness, come 
from what quarter they might, whether " Get up, old bug- 
horn" came from the north of the hill, " Go along, you old 
Daisy" from the east, " Why don't you huriy, old Crumple" 
from the south, or " Move along, old Full-pail" from the west. 

Two fishermen who had gone down in separate canoes from 
the bridge to the river's mouth to catch tautog — the Indian 
name for blackfish — , and were lazily singing a roundelay to 
while away time as their boats floated slowly homeward on 
the incoming tide, could be seen and their voices heard with 
equal distinctness as they sang their alternate parts, although 
the nearer boat was a mile distant from the hill and the 
other more than half as much further down the river. 

Mr. Robinson's house stood a mile and more, on an air- 
line, in an easterly direction from where the party rested, 
and yet Nichols plainly identified old black " Scip" chopping 


wood near the door, and could see the glimmering axe fall 
on the log some seconds before the sound of the blow reach- 
ed the hill, which was seemingly conveyed through the air 
in a packet that exploded with a sharp clap directly as it 
reached his ear. What seemed stranger to the old man than 
all was the barldug of a big watch-dog some two miles away, 
across the river, at the old brick house then owned and 
occupied by Amos Gardiner, and which is yet standing. 
Nichols said that the watch-dog to the east of the hill, appar- 
ently, never barked but in response to the baying of a fox- 
hound that was roaming in a big wood \ying not less that 
two miles to the westward and nortliward of where he stood, 
making the distance between the two animals some foui- 
miles, with the McSparran elevated hill intervening. Of 
this fact he felt tolerably sure, as there were occasionally 
lengthy invervals when botli dogs were quiet, which were 
never broken until the hound uttered his howl, which was 
on the instant replied to by the hoarse bark of the distant 

Directly after the party rested, the old man observed a 
wanton stripling in the valley beneath, fire his gun at a kill- 
deer — a species of snipe — that was winging its way toward 
the summit of the hill, and soon it wavered in its flight, as 
if wounded, and fluttered to the ground in an adjoining field. 
Some half hour after this occurrence he heard " every now 
and then" ^ faint peeping over the wall in the next field, 
followed by a rustling as if made by agitated straw, which 
he could not account for. Mrs. Simons' quick sense of hear- 
ing soon caught the unusual sounds, when she sent the old 
man on a reconnoitering expedition to find the cause. Fol- 
lowing the direction of the sounds, after getting over a high 
wall, Nichols soon came to a nest on the ground beside a 
rock, in which were four half-fledged birds, a few feet from 
which lay on its side the kill-deer that the thoughtless boy, 
had hurt. It was the mother of the young brood, that had 
been striving to reach and convey to her nestlings a slug 


which was yet held in its beak, but had fallen on the way 
from exhaustion, just as it was about to reach them and minis- 
ter to their wants. The poor bird, howevei', still continued to 
utter occasional plaintive notes that were always answered 
by a shuffling or rustling sound made by the half-feathered 
wings of her brood in the nest. This could not last, and 
after making two or three more straggles, each succeeding 
one weaker than the last, the mother-bird in its latest 
agonies dropped the slug from its bill and died. 

On the old man's leturn he told Mr^i. Simons that he could 
not learn the cause of the noises they had heard, and as 
neither the plaintive cry nor the answering rustling sounds 
occurred again, she was apparently satisfied. On my asking 
old Bennv how he could tell Mrs. Simons such a falsehood 
the considerate old man replied that "if he told her all about 
the old kill-deer and her young'uns, he was afeard it would 
made the poor sick lady feel kinder bad !" 

As the sun declined Mr. Robinson again and again ten- 
derly suggested to his sick daughter the danger to be appre- 
h-ended from the evening air, but still he had not the heart 
to resist the pleading look she always gave him in response. 
The party lingered on the rock, and it was not until after 
the booming evening gun from Fort George, in Newport 
harbor, had met and mingled its roar witli the dirge-like note 
of the less distant fern owl, that always begins its mournful 
song exactly as the sun goes down, that the reluctant invalid 
seemed willing to depart. Even then she motioned to the 
carriers of her litter to pause while she turned her face from 
the golden-tinged horizon in the west, and once more follow- 
ed with her eyes the rich plumaged summer ducks and other 
water-fowl, as they winged their way up the river to seek 
their nightly repose in the sequestered nooks of the lake 
above, where, even after these were lost to sight in the even- 
ing shades, their whizzing wings could be heard, as each new 
arriving bevy circled around for a while in the air, as if for 


the purpose of reconnoitering, and then dashed into the wave 
billing and cooing to each other ere they composed tliem- 
selves to rest. At last, after casting one long, wistful look 
toward the still roseate west, and murmuring to herself, " It 
is the last time," Mrs. Simons motioned to her attendants to 
proceed on their circuitous way. 


With quickened pace, the bearers of Mrs. Simons' litter- 
so soon to be.her hearse — passed onward to the old post-road 
that lies on the western side of McSparran Hill, and then 
south to the precipitous road before spoken of in connection 
with " Crazy Harry Babcock." This hill they descended 
and soon reached Pettaquamscutt bridge. Here, at Mrs. 
Simons' request, the litter was again set down for a few 
minutes, that her ear might once more drink in the low, 
sweet murmurings of the now gently surging billows on the 
distant beach, borne by the calm summer air on the unrufifled 
waters of the river that washed her father'.^ shore, where in 
happ}"^ childhood's days she had so often laved lier hands and 
feet, and wliich was rendered by a thousand tender recollec- 
tions more precious in her •memoiy than all the helicons of 
ancient or modern lore. 

The moon, which v/as little past the full, had just begun 
to cast its light above the eastern hoiizon as the party reach- 
ed the top of the hill that rises in Boston Neck less than a 
mile east of Pettaquamscutt river and lake. Here, too, the 
party again halted, that the sick lady's wish might be grati- 
fied in once more beholding the moon rising from beyond the 
sea. As it began to emerge from the ocean its first beams of 
light were reflected from the top of McSparran Hill where 
the party had pi-eviously rested, and, as the orb ascended in 
the horizon, its advancing rays chased before them the shad- 
ows downward on the eastern slope of the hill, and again 
through the valley and over the river below, and still again 


upward on the western side of the elevated ridge where the 
party now were, until hills, valley, river and hike were all 
aglow with its mellow beams. This beautiful phenomenon 
the nearly exhausted invalid, with her quick perception of 
all that is lovely in nature, particulaily noticed and contrast- 
ed with what she had observed less than an hour before when 
on the summit of McSparran Hill, wherein, as the setting 
sun gradually sank beneath the western horizon the shadows, 
on the contrary, seemed to chase its retreating light up the 
hill, where the party now rested, from the river and valley 
below, until the last gleam of sunshine fled away before them. 
Looking over the ocean, now lighted up with a silvery sheen, 
the spread sails of the vessels, lying in the distance — becalm- 
ed and heedlessly rolling on the everlasting swell of the sea, 
waiting for a breeze — that had so recently glistened under 
the reflected rays of the setting sun in the west, were now 
reflected and cast into shadow by the rays of the same god of 
day reflected from the moon as it rose from its watery couch 
in the east. 

As the party drew near the house, which was not until 
late in the evening, they were met by the whole family, 
every member of whom was anxious to see the returning in- 
valid, who had in years past been its light and joy. The 
meeting of the servants, and especially of Mrs. Simons' old 
nurse. Mum Amey, with their beloved young mistress, was 
affecting to behold. The poor invalid, however, now too 
weak to respond to their affectionate and tearful greetings, 
was, with as little delay as possible, tenderly carried in her 
father's arms and placed in her own chamber and bed, and 
everything done for her comfort that mortal love could 

But all was without avail, and it soon became apparent that 
a marked change had taken place in her condition. The long 
journey, added to the excitement with which it was attend- 
ed, proved too much for her weakened vital powers to sus- 



tain. Before the hour of midnight arrived, a raging fever 
set in, in the delirium of which her mind reverted to the days 
when her unwoithy husband, under vows of everlasting love, 
beguiled her from her home and friends, and afterward 
abandoned her to misery and despair. But now it seemed as 
if the months and years of sorrow she had expei'ienced be- 
cause of his cruel neglect, were blotted from her memory, 
and she in her distempered fancy again beheld him as in by- 
gone daj's, when, from the window of the same chamber, she 
dropped tender billet-doux into her false lover's hand, as he 
stood at even-tide, hidden from view amidst the branches of 
the lihic tree. She called wildly on his name that he would 
come and defend her from her — now, alas, wretched — father's 
wrath and vengeance, incurred by her for the true love she 
had ever cherished in her heart for him alone. 

At about the hour of midnight a whip-poor-will, called by 
the Indians muck-a-wiss — come to me — ,perched on the eave 
of the house, opposite the lilac tree, and commenced its 
mournful cry of " Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will !" This 
bird of the night, though common in Narragansett, is seldom, 
known to visit the islands. Not long since I asked a Quaker 
lady, who had lived more than seventy years on Rhode Isl- 
and, if she had ever heard a whip-poor-will on the island. 
" Never but twice," she replied; " once on the night that my 
father died, and again on the night preceding the day on 
which I lost m}'^ mother." The ominous cry of the bird for 
a short time seemed to change the current of the poor sufferer's 
thoughts. Pausing and listening for a few moments, she ex- 
claimed, " Hark ! mother ! do you hear the death angel call- 
ing ? He is out in the lilac tree, mother ! He has come to 
take me away and marry me, mother ! It will be a sad wed- 
ding day, but not so sad as that other, dear mother !" Then 
turning her attention to the withered flower on her bosom, 
she said, " He told me, when he gave it me, that we must 
call it, not life everlasting, but love everlasting ! Lay it 


with me in my giave, mother, that I may take it to the land 
where life is everlasting and where love never dies !" 

As the sun rose in the morning, the malady in the poor 
sufferer's brain subsided, and left her weak and helpless. 
With faltering breath and feeble accent she asked to have 
the different articles of dress in her scanty wardrobe, and the 
few trinkets and keepsakes she had not been obliged in her 
extremity of poverty to part with, to belaid upon the bed 
that she might distribute them with her own hand, or indicate 
to whom they should be severally given ; but the task was 
too much for her fast failing strength, and the utmost she 
could accomplish was to place in her mother's hand a cam- 
bric handkerchief she had embi-oidered especiall}^ for her, 
with a family watch-seal for her brother, then absent at 
school, and lastly, a pair of gloves, the latest work of her own 
hands, into those of her father. She then intimated with the 
aid of signs that she wished all lier other little effects to be 
distributed among the servants of the household. This done, 
with a feeble, ineffectual outstretch of her arms, first to her 
mother and then to her father, as they by turns pressed the 
last kiss on her lips, the exhausted invalid settled back on 
her pillow and resigned herself to die. 

Quicker and quicker grew her gasping breath, as she lay 
partly raised and supported in her mother's arms on the one 
side, while her agonized father, kneeling beside the bed on 
the other, held her extended hand in his. A few minutes 
before she breathed her last, she cast her penetrating eyes 
upon her mother with an unutterable expression of affection, 
and then fixing them on her father, she continued to look 
lovingly and steadfastly in his, until they closed in death. 

The struggle is nigh over ! Faster and still faster the 
sufferer draws her labored breath ; the fell death-rattle gives 
its fatal warning ; a distressful tension of the muscles of the 
face from the sides of the nostrils downward ; a corrugation 
of the cuticle between the eyebrows ; a convulsive parting of 
the lips ; a spasmodic writhing "contrawise" of the jaws ; a 


wider opening of the mouth ; one long, last sigh ; one ! — 
two! — three! — four faint breaths! — fainter! — -fainter! stil^ 
fainter — yet fainter still! — 'tis! — yes ; the light has gone out 
of the sunken eye ; the tension of the poor pale cheeks has 
ceased ; the cold dew is on the marl)le brow ; the hue of 
death is stamped upon the temples; its pale blue lines are 
penciled around the mouth ; the feather placed upon the 
violet lips " makes no sign;" the glass gathers no moisture ; 
'tis the last : the " silver cord" tiiat biuds the immortal to 
the mortal is broken, and the freed soul, borne in angel arms, 
has sped its way to heaven. 

Just before the close, old nurse Mum Amey, who had been 
in tearful attendance ever since the arrival home of her 
young mistress, and who was held by Dr. McSparran, on 
account of her fortune-telling pretensions, to be uncanny, 
raised her eyes fi'om the face of her dying mistress and with 
a look of devout admiration exclaimed, " De angels is come." 
Mrs. Simons' favorite little spaniel Marcus had lain in her 
litter throughout the whole journey from Providence, nor 
could the affectionate creature be pacified after the arrival of 
its mistress home, until it was permitted to lie on the foot 
of her bed. It, too, just before Mum Amey made her sin- 
gular exclamation, raised itself on his fore feet and gazed 
earnestly by turns, first into the face of its dying mistress 
and then apparently on the ceiling of the room just over her 
head, as if there might be some weird-like impression made 
on the wall so like its mistress that the loving animal found 
it difficult to decide to which her proper identity belonged. If 
it be true, as it is held by some, that the lower animals, and 
especially those of the canine species, are instinctively gift- 
ed with the extraordinary faculty of " second sight," as it is 
termed in Scotland, the actions of the little spaniel, when 
viewed in connection with the exclamation of old nurse Mum 
Amey, might be very suggestive. 

Dr. Robert Hazard, the family physician, who had been 
sent for at an early hour the night before, expressed his be- 


lief that the death of his lovely cousin was not the result of 
any organic disease, but was caused simply by a deep-seated, 
consuming sorrow. Old nurse Mum Amey evidently coin- 
cided with the doctor's views in these i-espects, for when ask- 
ed a few days after the funeral, " What ailed her young mis- 
tress when she died?" she answered, " Nothin' ail Missus 
Hannah. Dis world wer eny jes too hard for her, an' de 
poor chile die ob de heart break !" 

While listening to the mournful surge of the sea when 
her litter was set dov^^n on Pettaquamscutt bridge, the even- 
ing before her decease, Mrs. Simons, as if aware of her im- 
pending fate, expressed a wish to her father that in the event 
of her death her remains might be carried to the family vault 
in the litter she was then lying in, and by the same four 
affectionate man-servants who had borne her from Piovi- 
dence. This request was strictly complied with. The 
funeral was conducted after the order of the society of 
Friends, Mrs. Simons' uncle and aunt, Thomas Hazard and 
his wife, being present. The former, as has been before 
said, was an eminent preacher among Friends, and he de- 
livered, on the trying occasion, a pertinent and consoling 
discourse to the bereaved friends. The remains were placed 
in the old family vault. 

The grief of Mr. Robinson on the occasion of the early 
death of his dearly loved and favorite child could not be 
described in language by the most gifted pen. For weeks 
after her remains were laid away in the family vault, the 
wretched father passed a large portion of his time in sitting 
on a stone near its entrance, or in wandering to and fro in its 
vicinity. Not an evening passed that he did not go to the 
vault, and there, if his countenance and eyes afforded a fair 
index on his return to his house late at night, he passed 
hours in weeping. As in life so in death the little dog, 
Marcus, refused to be separated from its mistress, nor could 
,the faithful creature be induced by any proffers of kindness 
to leave the spot where the remains of its loved mistress 


were deposited. It alike refused to partake of food or 
drink, but there lay foi- days and nights until the poor thing 
died from sheer starvation in a cavity it had scratched, and 
from day to day deepened, in the ground just beneath the 
door-way of her tomb. In this grave of the affectionate 
brute's own digging it was one morning found dead by Mr. 
Robinson, and was therein buried with its master's own 
hands, after being carefully wrapped in the linen case from 
off the pillow on which its mistress' head last lay. 

On the evening preceding the morning on which Marcus 
was found dead, Mr Robinson paid his usual nightly pil- 
giimage to the vault and sat down on the accustomed stone 
to weep. Hitherto the little dog had never greeted the 
coming of its nmster otherwise than by a feeble moan. 
On tliis occasion, however, the emaciated creature with diffi- 
culty made its way, reeling through weakness, to its mas- 
ter's feet. Then, after resting its head against the sorrow- 
ing father's knees and fixing its eyes for several minutes 
steadily in his, the dying brute faltered its way back to the 
door of the vault, and with one prolonged, wailing howl, so 
melancholy, so desparing, again threw itself into its self-ap- 
pointed grave. 

On his speedy return to the house the distracted mourner 
recited the incident to his wife, and in words rendered al- 
most unintelligible through emotion, declared to her that if 
he ever looked into Hannah's eyes, he was sure he had just 
now seen them gazing into his through those of her littlg 
dog, with exactly the same loving expression with which 
she had regarded him at the moment of her death. He also 
said he was sure that the last howl of the poor animal was 
mingled with wailing accents, in which he could distinguish 
poor Hannah's voice, and that it must have come from her 
tomb. Nor would the half-crazed father be satisfied until, 
accompanied by Prince with the key and a lantern, he en- 
tered the vault and had the lid of the coffin unfastened and 
lifted, when the calm, rigid features of his idolized child, yet 


beautiful in death, conveyed to the grief-riven lieart of the 
father unmistakable evidence that the spirit whicli so late 
gave them life had indeed taken its eternal dei)artui'e from 
its mortal tenement. 

A new and larger vault, which had been for some time 
previous to Mrs. Simons' death in the process of building, 
was, shortly after the sad event, completed, into which the 
remains of Mrs. Simons were temporarily placed, while those 
of the affectionate little spaniel were removed and reinter- 
red at the foot of its mistress' grave. 

Some days before this last sad ceremony was performed, 
Mr. Peter Simons, who had for some months been absent in 
distant parts, returned to Providence, when he for the first 
time learned the decease of his heart-broken wife. A regard 
for decency, and perhaps some remorse of conscience, oi- it 
may have been some lingering sentiments of affection, 
prompted him to call at his father-in-law's, to be present, if 
permitted, at the removal of the body of Mrs. Simons to 
the newly erected tomb. On his arrival at the family man- 
sion, Mr. Robinson received him with courtesy, but after ask- 
ing him to partake of the hospitalities of the house while he 
remained his guest, he never after, during the days Mr. Si- 
mons stayed, spoke a word to him, until the morning on 
which his daughter's remains were removed, and then only 
to notify him briefly of his intentions in that respect. 

The following communication from a lady. Miss E. G. H., 
a family connection of Rowland Robinson, of Narragansett, 
appeared in the Newport Mefcury some score or more years 


In Mr. Updike'js entertaining miscellany, entitled a 
" History of the Narragansett Church," among other attrac- 
tive narratives, is a short biographical sketch of the Robin- 
son family, and particularly of a granddaughter of Gov. Wil- 
liam Robinson, celebrated in her time for her unequaled 
beauty and the unhappy consequences of a romantic and ill- 


starred marriage. Mr. Updike represents her father, Row- 
land Robinson, as possessed of a relentless, unforgiving spirit, 
which even the dying hours of his unfortunate daughter 
could scarely propitiate. This we are assured, is altogether 
incorrect, and does great injustice to the character of Mr, 
Robinson, who, though impetuous and overbearing in tem- 
per, was far from being vindictive. In the following linesr 
by a fair descendant of Governor Robinson, the reverse of 
this picture is presented, uniting, as will be seen, in no 
ordinary degree, the attractiveness of poetiy to the strictness 
of historical truth. 

It was a lovely evening, and the golden light of summer 

Was on the hill, and on the plain, and on the flowing river. 

The hlue and silver gleams, that checker' d o'er the hay, 

Had passed from off the waters, that ilx somhre shadows lay. 

The mother, from the lattice, looked to the distant road. 

And blessed the coming footsteps that neared her proud abode. 

Soft pillowed on a litter, on sturdy shoulders borne, 

Slow came the much-loved daughter, a wreck on her return. 

Stately, on a courser, did her father slow^ly ride. 

With look of love and anxious care still watching at her side. 

And now the home of childhood uprose before her view. 

The panes of gold bright shining, the shading branches through,. 

The fields spread soft and verdant where in infancy she played, 

And all the air seemed whispering of hope and love betrayed. 

" Now set me down, my father, upon the much-loved ground, 

Now set me down, my father, and let me look around. 

'Tis beautiful! 'tis beautiful! what visions o'er me hover! 

Oh, days of love and peace and joy, how have you passed forever! 

Now ask me all, my faither! now ask me all thou may: 

Thy sorrow-stricken daughter shall not now thee gainsay." 

Fast fell the tears and faster upon that beauteous head. 

Strong feeling swayed within his breast but not a word he said. 

" Father, I know that sorrow has crushed thy spirit strong; 

J know my blighted love has wrought thee mighty wrong, 

But oh ! be kind, my father, to him who called me bride. 

Remember that I loved him, and oh, forget thy pride. 

Forgive the wrong he wrought me, my early death and woe, 

And in all his troubles, still kindness to him show. 

Remember me, thy daughter, thy blessed and early pride, 

Remember that I loved him, although through him I died." 

The golden sun, uprising, shone on a beauteous corpse. 


There stood the father in his grief, the spouse in his remorse ; 
And through the pitying multitude, the busy murmur ran, 
As they loolved upon the smitten sire, and conscience-striclven man ; 
But keen reproacli, or bitter taunt, the father's lips ne'er spoke, 
Tho' from that day the cheerful smile on the mother's face ne'er broke. 
And when the moon had filled her horn and the crescent shone again, 
And the finished vault had ope'd its doors, its first fair dead to claim; 
" To-morrow," said the sorrowing sire, " our daughter, we'll remove, 
Again we'll look upon the face of her, our dearest love." 
And early when the morrow came, the grave they then unclose, 
And from the face the veil remove, lo ! beautiful it glows. 
The bloom of beauty from her cheek had not yet passed away. 
Nor on the graceful moulded form, the signet of decay. 
But calm and beautiful as sleep had folded in her arms 
The treasure of the parents' heart in all her early charms. 
Then passed the husband from the roof, a wand'rer on the sea. 
And in daring, bold and cruel strife closed his dark destiny. 
Newport, R. I. E 

Genealogy of the Robinson Family. 


The following genealogical facts have been mainly furnish- 
ed by Jeremiah P. Robinson, Esq., of New York, with an 
elaborate chart of the Narragansett Robinson Family, to the 
compilation of which his friend and kinsman, the late Stephen 
Ayrault Robinson, of Wakefield, R. I., devoted much time 
during the latter 3^ears of his life. With revisals and some 
additions as will appear, the following is a transcript of the 
chart, including the caption and preface attached by its com- 
piler. Mr. S. Ayrault Robinson collected a vast amount of 
interesting reminiscences of the ancient family, which, it is 
to be hoped, will be embodied in a volume and given to the 


Rohinson Family of Narragansett^ as arranged hy the late 
Stephen Ayrault Rohinson^ of Wakefield., formerly of 
Newport^ R. I. 

ROWLAND ROBINSON, the primitive of our family in 
this country, was born in 1654, at or near a place called Long 
Bluff, in Cumberland, England. He came to this country in 
1675, married Mary, the daughter of John and Mary Allen, 
in 1676, who were from Barnstable, England. Her mother's 
name before marriage was Bacon, who was born also in 
Barnstable. Rowland Robinson died at his residence, situ- 
ated near the pond or cove of Pettaquamscutt river, in 1716, 


aged 62 years. His wife was born in 1656, and died in 1706, 
aged 50 years. They were both buried in the Narragansett 
Friends — called Quakers — burial ground, Kingston — now 
South Kingstown — , about two miles south of Tower Hill 
village. Their graves are in the north-east corner of the 
burial ground. Mr. Robinson purchased lands of the Narra- 
gansetts soon after he came into their country; here he set- 
tled and improved the land until his death. He also purchased 
largely in the Pettaquamscutt and Point Judith lands. On 
these lands he [)uilt several houses and lived in one of them 
for some years. In the records of the town of Westerly for 
1709, is recorded a deed of three thousand acres of the Wood 
River lands, purchased by Rowland Robinson. These lands 
he sold in farms containing from one hundred and fifty to 
three hundred acres each. Portions of his Pettaquamscutt 
and Point Judith estates have descended uninterruptedly 
from father to children until the present time, 1870. 
Rowland Robinson's children were as follows : 

1. John, born in 1677 ; married Mary Hazard in 1703 ; 
died in 1711, aged 34 years. His wife died in 1722, aged 46 
years. He left four daughters, all of whom were brought up 
in Gov. William Robinson's family. One of them married a 
Hazard, and was the mother of one of the Stephen Hazards. 
Another married a Babcock. 

2. Joseph, born in 1679 ; died in infancy. 

3. Elizabeth, born in 1680 ; married William Brown in 
1698. She died in 1745, aged 64 years. Mr. Brown died in 
1749, aged 73 years. They left children, Thomas Brown 
and others. 

4. Margaret, born in 1683 ; married Thomas Mumford 
in 1703. She died in 1707, aged 23 years. Mr. Mumford 
died in 1745, aged 66 years. They left children, James 
among others. '/Z<,^J<y<^y 

5. Sarah, born in 1685 ; married JiWfte& Barton in 1712. 
She died in 1760, aged 76 years. Mr. Barton died in 1743, 


aged 70 years. They left children, Rowland, Rufus, and 

6. Rowland, born in 1688 ; died in 1693, aged 5 years. 

7. Mercy, born in 1690 ; married Col. John Potter in 
1714. She died in 1762, aged 72 years. Colonel Potter died 
in 1739, aged 50 years. They left children. 

8. William, born in 1693 ; married Martha Potter in 
1717. She died in 1725, aged 33 years. He married his 
second wife, Mrs. Abigail G. Hazard — widow of Caleb Hazard 
and daughter of William Gardiner— in 1727 or 1728. Wil- 
liam Robinson died in 1751, aged 58 years. His second wife 
died in 1773, aged 16 yeaij^ 

/t>^ Mary, born in 1705 ; married Thomas C. Hazard in 

il727. She died in 1756, aged 51 years. Mr. Hazard died 
in 1750, aged 47 years. They left children. 
10. Rowland, born in 1706 ; died in infancy. 
11. Sarah, born in 1707 ; married Charles Babcock in 
1725. She died in 1744, aged 37 years. Mr. Babcock died 
in 1755, aged 55 years. They left children. 
12. Ruth, born in 1709 ; married Robert Underwood in 
1728. She died in 1758, aged 49 years. Mr. Underwood 
died in 1763, aged 58 years. They left children. 

The children of Gov. William Robinson — eighth son of 
ROWLAND— by his first wife, Martha Potter, were : 

1. Rowland^ born in 1719 ; married Anstis Gardiner in 
1741. " December 3. 1741, the bans being duly published in 
the church of St. Paul's, Narragansett, Rowland Robijison, 
son of William, was married to Anstis Gardiner, daughter of 
John Gardiner, by the Rev. Dr. McSparran." Updike s His- 
tory of the Narragansett Churchy page 188. Mr. Robinson 
died in 1806, aged 87 yeais. Mrs. Robinson died in 1785, 
aged 68 years. The children of Rowland Robinson were : 
1. Hannah, born in 1746 ; married Peter Simons. Mrs. 
Simons died in 1773. Soon after her death Mr. Simons went 
to Europe, and never returned to America. Miss Robinson 


was celebrated for her beauty. 2. Mary, bom in 1752 ; died 
in 1777. 3. William R., born in 1759 ; married Ann Scott, 
1784 ; died 1804, aged 45 years. Mrs. Robinson afterward 
married Doctor John Mann, and died in 1839, aged 76 years, 
without issue. 

2. John, born in 1721 ; died in 1739. 

3. Margaret, born in 1722 ; married William Mumford in 
1745. She died in 1768, aged 46 years. Mr. Mumford died 
in 1790, aged 69 years. They left chihlren. [Benjamin R. 
Smith, of Philadelphia, writes me that in a memorandum in 
his possession, enumerating by name and order of birth the 
children of Gov. William Robinson, the name of Margaret 
does not appear The memoi-andum is in the handwriting of 
Thomas Robinson — Mr. Smith's grandfather — a son of Gov. 
William, and this fact renders it the more probable that there 
is some mistake in the names.] 

4. Elizabeth, born in 1724 ; married Thomas Hazard in 
1745. She died in 1804, aged 79 years. Mrs. Hazard died 
at the Doctor Senter house, south-east corner of the Parade 
and Thames street, and was buried in the Friends' burial 
ground in Newport. Mr. Hazard died at his homestead in 
South Kingstown in 1795, aged 76 years, and was buried in 
the Friends old burying ground in South Kingstown. 

5. Martha, born in 1725 ; married Latham Clarke in 1747. 
She died in 1768. Mr. Clarke died in 1776, aged 60 years. 
They left children : Martha, who was the second wife of 
John Hazard, of North Kingstown, and a woman of strong- 
intellect and sterling character; Samuel; Louis Latham; 
Hannah, born April 19, 1760. Hannah married Peleg Gar- 
diner — his second wife — , October 26, 1791. Her children 
were : Martha Clarke, born September 10, 1795, who married 
Rowhmd F. Gardiner and died December 19, 1837 ; Han- 
nah Robinson, born June 3, 1798, married Robert Morey, and 
died June 3, 1869 ; Mary Ann, born November 15, 1800, 
who married Timothy Clarke Collins and died in October^ 
1860. Peleg Gardiner owned the Rowland Robinson farm, 


and there died. The family now have Rowland Robinson's 
fcimily Bible containing among many otlier entries in his own 
handwriting, the following : " William Robinson, died 19th 
Sept., 1751, aged 57 years, 7 months, 27 days ;" '■' Martha, 
wife of William, diep November, 1725 ;" •' My daughter, 
Hannah R(jbinson, departed this life the 30th October, 1773, 
aged 27 j'-ears, 5 months, 9 days [Hannah Gardiner Morey, 
daughter of Robert Morey, has now in her possession four 
silver spoons that belonged to the ■■ unfortunate Hannah 
Robinson']" ; "Anstis Gardiner, wife of Rowland Robinson, 
died November 24th, 1773 ;" '• Mary, my daughter, died April 
Sth, 1777, aged 25 years, 1 month, 21 days ;'" " William, my 
son, died 29th October, 1804, aged 45 years ;" " My beloved 
brother, John Robinson, died October 5, 1739." The fore- 
going extracts fi'om Rowland Robinsoii's family Bible wei-e 
kindly furnished me with others by William G. Caswell, of 
the State of New York, who married Sally C. Gardiner, 
daughter of Rowland F. Gardiner and Martha Clarke Gar- 
diner, a lineal descendant by the mother's side of Gov. Wil- 
liam Robinson. 

6. Christopher — the first child of Gov. William Robinson 
by his second wife — , born in 1728 ; married Rhuhama 
Champlin in 1752 ; died in 1807, aged 79 years. Mis. Robin- 
son died in 1783, aged 52 years. Their children were : 
1. Abigail, born 1754; married Stephen Potter 1772; died 
1803, aged 49 years. Mr. Potter died in 1793, aged 43 years. 
The children of Stephen and Abigail Potter were : (a) Cap- 
tain Robinson Potter, who married and had children. The 
first child, Elizabeth, married Dr. Theophilus Dunn, whose 
children were : Professor Robinson Dunn, Thomas, Theophi- 
'X^ lus, Elizabeth, Anne, who married /oscan Bennet and has chil- 
dren, and Frances, who married Dr. Keith, (b) Abigail, died 
unmarried, (c) A daughter, who mari-ied Captain Gardiner, 
of Newport, \vliose daughter married Silas H. Cottrell, and 
one other daughter who marj-ied a Chad wick. 2. Christo- 
pher Champlin, born 1756 ; married Elizabeth Anthony, 


1790; died 1841, aged 87 years. Mrs. Robinson died in 
1849, aged 79 ^-ears. The children of Christopher C. and 
Elizabeth Robinson were: (a) George C, born 1791; 
married Mary Niles Potter 1812 ; died at Canton, East Indies, 
1827, aged 36 years. Mrs. Robinson died in 1870, aged 75 
years, 10 months and 18 days, (b) Thurston, born 1793 ; 
married Sai-ah Perry 1823 ; died 1875, aged 82 years. Mrs. 
Robinson died 1874, aged 85 years, (c) Mary, born 1794 ; 
married John Brown 1815; died 1866, aged 72 yeius. Mr. 
Brown died 1834, aged 42 years ; left children, (d) Harriet, 
born 1795; died 1796, aged 21 days, (e) Rhuhama C. born 
1797; married John Robinson 1821; died 1869, aged 71 
years. Mr. Robinson died in 1841, aged 47 years. No 
children. (0 Elizabeth, born, 1799 ; died 1799, aged 3 months 
and 5 days, (g) Rodman G., born 1800 ; died 1841 ; un- 
married, (h) Elizabeth A., born 1801 ; married Wm. B. 
Robinson 1830; died 1876. (i) Sally, born 1803; died 1816. 
(j) Elisha A., born 1804 ; married Mary Hull 1837. (k) 
Harriet, born 1807 ; married Wm. B. Robinson — his second 
wife—; died 1828. Mr. Robinson died 1875. (1) Frances 
Wanton, born 1809 ; died December, 1876 ; married Thomas 
Hazard Watson, son of Walter. The children of Thomas H. 
and Frances W. Watson were : Walter Scott, George Robin- 
son, Caroline, Elizabeth and Thomas H. (m) Christopher, 
born 1810. (n) Albert, born 1812; married Hannah Pierce 
1844; died 1856,. aged 44 years. The children of Albert 
and Hannah Robinson were Albert C, born 1854, and George 
P., born 1856. Mrs. Robinson married for her second hus- 
dand, William G. Kenyon. (o) William H. Robinson, born 
1814; married Eliza Hazard 1841. 

7. William — seventh child of Gov. William Robinson — , 
born 1729 ; married Hannah Brown 1752 ; died 1785, aged 
56 years. Mrs. Robinson died in 1791, aged 60 years. The 
children of William and Hannah Robinson were : 1. Philip 
Robinson, born 1754; married Elizabeth Boynton 1779; 
died 1799, aged 45 years. Mrs. Robinson died in 1785, aged 


26 years. They had one child, Samuel Boynton Robinson, 
born 1785; died 1794, aged 9 yeais. 2. Hannah, born 1756; 
married George Brown 1774 ; died 1823, aged 67 years. 
Lieut-Gov. George Brown died in 1836, aged 80 years. They 
left a large family of children, William, George, John, and 
several daughters, one of whom married Rowse Babcock, of 

8. TJiomas — eighth child of Gov. William Robinson — , 
born 1730 ; married Sarah Richardson 1752 ; died 1817, aged 
87 years. Mrs. Robinson died in 1817, aged 84 years. 

9. Abigail, boin in 1732, married John Wanton 1751 ; 
died 1754, aged 22 years. Mr. Wanton died in 1793, aged 
65 years. They had only one child, which was buried in the 
same grave with the mother. 

10. Sylvester^ born in 1734; married Alice Perry in 1756 ; 
died in 1809, aged 75 years. Mis. Robinson died in 1787, 
aged 50 years. 

11. Mary, born in 1736 ; maiiied John Dockray in 1756; 
died in 1776, aged 40 years. Mr. Dockray died in 1787, aged 
56 years. Their children were : 1. John Bigelow ; 2. James 
Dockray. John Bigelow Dockray married a daughter of 
William Congdon, and was the father of John, Nancy and 
Mary. The last named John Dockray married Mercy Peck- 
ham. Their children were : John, William, James, and 
Mary — all now living. Nancy mari'ied William Brown, a 
son of Governor George Brown. Their children were : 
Mary, Nancy, John, Hannah, Edward, and Susan. 

12. James, born 1738 ; married Nancy Rodman. 

13. John, born 1742 ; married Sarah Peckham 1761 ; 
died 1801. Mrs. Robinson died in 1775. 

The children of Thomas Robinson — eighth sen- of Gov. 
William Robinson — were : 

1. William T., born 1754 ; married Sarah, daughter of 
Samuel Franklin, of New York City ; died 1885, aged 81 
years. Mrs. Robinson died in 1811, aged 52 years. 


The children of William T. and Sarah Robinson were: 
1. Esther, born in 1782, married Jonas Mintiirn, of New 
York— son of William Minturn, who married Penelope 
Greene, a near relative of General Nathaniel Greene. The 
late Robert Bowne Minturn, of the firm of Grinnell, Minturn 
& Co., New York, was the grandson of the above named 
William, and the son of William Minturn the second and 
Sally Bowne, daughter of Robert Bowne, of New York City. 
The children of Jonas and Esther Minturn were : (a) Eliza- 
betli, born 1801 ; died young, (b) William, born 1802 : 
drowned in a sailboat near New York, September 21, 1821. (c) 
Rowland, born 1801; died 1889 ; unmarried, (d) Caroline, 
born 1806, married David Prescott Hall, of New York. Their 
children were: John Mumford, Rowland Minturn, Caroline 
Minturn, Elizabeth Prescott, Frances Ann, and David Pres- 
cott. David Prescott Hall married Florence Howe, daughter 
of Dr. Samuel G. Howe, of Boston, and has children- 
Samuel Prescott, Caroline Minturn, and Henry Marion, (e) 
Thomas, born 1808 ; died unmarried, aged about 70 years, (f) 
Lloyd, deceased, born 1810, married Julia Randolph, of New- 
port, R. I.; second wife, Anne K. Robinson, of Ferrisbui-gh, 
Vt., whose children are named elsewhere, (g) Frances! 
born 1812; married Tliomas R. Hazard, of Vaucluse, R. I. 
Their children were : Mary, died aged 27 months, Frances, 
Gertrude, Anna— the last three named all died in early 
womanhood — , Esther, who married Dr. E. J. Dunnino-, of 
New York, and Barclay, born in 1852. (h) Niobe, married 
Duncan Ferguson, of New York ; had one child ; Lucy, who 
died, aged 2 years ; married, second. Ward H. Blackler, of 
New York, whose children were: Mary — who married 
Theodore Wright, of Philadelphia, and has one child—, 
Minturn, Gertrude, who died in early womanhood, and Edith 
Belliden. (i) Jonas, born 1819; married Abby West, of 
Bristol, R. I. Their children were : Rowland, Mary— married 
Charles Potter, of Newport, R. I., and has children, Charles, 




Mary Minturn and Aracelia — , Thomas, Gertrude — married 
Captain George Sanford, U. S. Army, and has one daughter, 
Margaret — , Madeline, and James, (j) Agatha, married 
Edward Mayer, of Vienna, Austria, and has children, John^ 
Lloyd, and William, (k) Gertrude, married William H. 
Newman, of New York Cit}'. All the above named daughters 
of Jonas and Esther Robinson Minturn are deceased. 

2. Thomas — second child of William T. and Sarah Robin- 
son — , attached himself to the fortunes of Aai'on Burr, and 
died in Paris in early manhood, unmarried. 

3. Samuel, unmarried, lost in a sailboat near New York, 
September 21, 1815. 

4. Sarah, married Joseph S. Coates, of Philadelphia. 
Their children were : Joseph H. and Sarah R. Coates. Joseph 
H. married, first, Elizabeth W. Horner, who died without 
children ; second, Sarah Ann Wisner. Their children were : 
Alma W., Ellen W., Arthur R., and Joseph S. Coates. Sarah 
R. Coates married Joshua Toomer, of Charleston, S. C, and 
has one child, Mary Ann. 

5. Mary, married William Hunter, United States Minister 
to Brazil. Their children were : (a) William, married Sally 
Hoffman, daughter of General Smith, of Georgetown, D. C. 
The children of William and Sally H. Hunter were : Walter, 
Mary — married Richard H. Jones, of Cumberland, Md. - , 
Blanche, Irene, William, and Godfrey, (b) Eliza, married 
James Birckhead, of Rio Janeiro, Brazil. Their children 
were William, and Katherine. William Birckhead married 
Sarah King, of Newport, R. I., and has children — James, 
Philip, and Hugh, (c) Thomas R., married Mrs. Frances 
Wetmore Taylor, of New York City. Their children are : 
William, Elizabeth, Augusta, Mary, and Charles, (d) Mary, 
married Captain Piers, of the Royal Navy of Great Britain, 
(e) Charles, Commander U. S. Navy, married Miss Rotch, of 
New Bedford. Their children are : Catherine — married 
Thomas Dunn, of Newport, R. I. — , Caroline, Mary — married 
Walter Langdon Kane, of New York — , Anna Falconet, (f) 


Catherine, maiTied William Greenway, of Rio Janeiro, 
Brazil, whose son was Charles, (g) John, died in youth. 

6. Abby — daughter of William T. and Sarah Robinson — , 
married Mr. Pierce ; both lost at sea. 

7. Franklin, married and died in Alabama, leaving Mary, 
who died while at school in Newport, R. I., and other chil- 

8. Nancy, married John Toulmin, of Mobile, Ala., and 
left one child, Agatha, 

9. Rowland, married and settled in Ohio, where he died 
highly respected, leaving several children. 

10. Eliza, died in early womanhood, unmarried. 

11. William, died in mature manhood, unmarried. 

1'2. Emma, married John Grimshaw ; died 1878. They 
had a daughter, Emma, who married Benjamin Haviland, 
and had children — William Robinson, Gertrude, Ellen, and 

2. Thomas — second son of Thomas Robinson, the eighth 
son of Governor William — born 1756 ; died young. 

3. Mary, born 1757 ; married John Morton, of Philadel- 
phia, 1793 ; died in Philadelphia 1829. Mr. Morton died in 
Philadelphia 1828. Their children were : Esther, born 

. 1797, Robert, born 1801 ; died unmarried 1848. Esther 
married Daniel B. Smith 1824. The children of Daniel B. 
and Esther Smith were : Benjamin R., born 1825, John, 
born 1828, died 1836, Mary, born 1830, died 1854. Benjamin 
R. Smith married Esther F. Wharton, 1859. Their children 
are : Robert Morton, born 1860, died 1864, William Wharton, 
born 1861, Anna Wharton, born 1864, Esther Morton, born 
1865, Deborah Fisher, born 1869, died 1877, Edward Wan- 
ton, born 1875.. Benjamin R. Smith inherited and now 
occupies as a summer residence the old homestead of his 
maternal ancestors in Newport, R. I. 

4. Abigail, born 1760 ; died at an advanced age, unmar- 


5. Thomas Richardson^ born 1761 ; married Jemima Fish 
1783; died 1851, aged 90 years. Mrs. Robinson died in 
1846, aged 85 years. They left children : 1. Abigail, mar- 
ried Nathan C. Hoag. Their children were: Rachel — married, 
no children — , Amy, unmarried, Thomas, married Huldah 
Case, Huldah, married Louis Estis, Jane, married Henry 
Miles, Joseph, Nathan, died young, Mary, married Daniel 
Clark. 2. Rowland T., married Rachel Gilpin, of New York. 
Their children were : (a) Thomas R., married Charlotte 
Satterly, and had children, William G., and Sarah R., who 
married William Harman. (b) George G. (c) Anne K., 
married Lloyd Minturn. Tiieir children were : Rowland 
R., Agatha Barclay — married William R. Haviland — , and 
Frances, (d) Rowland E., married Anna Stevens. 

6. Rowland^ born 1763; lost at sea in early manhood ; 

7. Joseph Jacoh^ born 1765 ; died at an advanced age, un- 

8. Amyy born 1768 ; mari-ied Robert Bowne, of New York. 
Their children were : George, who died unmarried, and Row- 
land, who left a daughter. 

The children of Sylvester Robinson, son of Gov. Wil- 
liam RoBiNSOJf, were : 

1. James^ born 1756 ; married Mary Attmore, of Phila- 
delphia, in 1781 ; died 1841, aged 85 years. Mrs. Robinson 
died 1856, aged 86 years. 

2. Mary, born 1763, married Jonathan N. Hassard, 1788 ; 
died 1837, aged 74 years. Mr. Hassard died 1802 in the 
West Indies, aged 42 years. He left children, Stephen, 
James, Alice, Jonathan N., Robinson, and Mary, and numer- 
ous grandchildren. 

3. Abigail, born 1769 ; married Thomas H. Hazard 1789 ; 
died 1818, aged 49 years. Mr. Hazard died 1823, aged 61 
years, and left children. 

The children of James Robinson — ninth child of Gov. 
William Robinson — were : 


1. Abi(^ail, bovu 11 68 ; manied John Robinson 1794 ; died 
1805, aged 37 years. Mr. Robinson died in 1831, aged 64 
j^ears ; left children. 

2. Ruth, hovu 1769; was never married; died in 1839, 
aged 70 years. 

3. Mari/, born 1771; married John Bowers 1792; died 
1826, aged 55 years. Mr. Bowers died 1819, aged 53 years ; 
left children. 

4. Ann, born 1772; died 1790, aged 17 years. 

5. James^ born 1774 ; died 1781, aged 7 years. 

The children of John Robinson — the tenth and youngest 
child of Gov. William Robinson — were: 

1. Benjamin, born 1763, married Elizabeth Brown, 
daughter of Gov. George Brown, 1801 ; died 1830, aged 66 
years. Mrs. Robinson died in 1855, aged 86 years. 

2. Sarah, born in 1764 ; married John Taber 1789 ; died 
1837, aged 73 years. Mr. Taber died in 1820, aged 62 years. 
They left children. 

3. William^ born 1766 ; married. 

4. John J., born 1767, married Abigail Robinson 1794 ; 
died 1831, aged 64 years. Mrs. Robinson died in 1805, aged 
39 years, Mr. Robinson was at one time a partner with 
Rowland Hazard in the mercantile house of Hazard & Robin- 
son, of Charleston, South Carolina. 

5. Sylvester, born 1769 ; married ; died in 1837, aged 68 

6. Thomas^ born 1771 ; died 1786, aged 14 years. 

3. George C. — third child of Christopher, son of Gov. 
William Robinson — ,born 1758 ; died 1780, aged 22 years. 
He was taken prisoner in the privateer Revenge in 1778, 
carried into New York and placed on board the prison-ship 
Jersey at the Wallabout, Long Island, N. Y., where he died 
with the prison fever, and was buried at that place. 

4. Elizabeth — fourth child of Christopher — , born 1760 ; 
married Mumford Hazard, son of Simeon, 1786; died 1822, 


aged 62 years. Mr. Hazard died in 1811, aged 55 years. 
They left no children. 

5. William C, born 1763 ; married Frances Wanton 1794 ; 
died 1803, aged 40 years. Mrs. Robinson died in 1816, aged 
43 years. 

6. Jesse, born 1764 ; married Hannah T. Sands 1789 ; 
died 1808, aged 44 years. Mrs. Robinson died in 1848, aged 
82 years. 

7. Robert, born 1765 ; married Sarah Congdon 1795. She 
died in 1802, aged 26 years. Married Ann Deblois 1807. 
Mr. Robinson died in 1831, aged 66 years. Mrs. Robinson, 
his second wife, died in 1850, aged 68 years. 

8. Hannah, born 1769 ; married John Perry 1787 ; died 
1849, aged 80 years. Mr. Perry died in 1834, aged 69 years. 
Left children : Robinson Perry, of Wakefield, John G. Perry, 
of Kingston, Oliver Hazard, of Peace Dale, and several other 
sons and daughters. 

9. Matthew, born 1772 ; married Mary S. Potter 1797 
She died in 1801, aged 24 years. Married Mary Potter in 
1802. Mr. Robinson died in 1821, aged 49 years. Mrs. 
Robinson, second wife, died in 1836, aged 54 years. 

The children of William C. — fifth child of Christopher and 
grandson of Gov. William Robinson — were : 

1. Edivard Wanton, born 1797 ; died 1818, aged21years. 

2. Stephen Ayrault, born 1799 ; married Sarah H. Potter 
1822, at Wakefield, R. 1.; died in South Kingstown, April 
7, 1877, aged 78 years. [Note by T. R. H. — He was a most 
amiable man and a true gentleman of the old school.] 

3. Frances Tf"., born 1800 ; died 1802, aged 2 years. 

4. aeorge (7., born 1802 ; died 1820, aged 18 years. 

5. William C, born 1803 ; married Abby B. Shaw 1827; 
died 1871, aged 67 years. 

The children of Jesse — sixth child of Christopher and 
grandson of Gov. William Robinson— were : 

1. Eobert, born 1790; died 1809, aged 19 years. Mr. 


Robinson was killed by falling from the mast-head of the ship 
Resolution, of Newport, R. I., while in the harbor of Charles- 
ton, S. C. 

2. William J., born 1792 ; married Rebecca Ann Gould 
1822 ; died 1852, aged 60 years, without issue. His widow 
married in 1859, Isaac Jacques, of Elizabeth, N. J. 

3. Matthew, born 1794; married Mary D. Shields 1828; 
died 1833, aged 39 years ; left issue. His widow married 
Dr. DeForrest, of Baitimore, Md., 1843. 

4. Samuel Perry, born 1798 ; married Alzada R. Willey 
1824 ; died 1868, aged 70 years. 

5. Edwin, born 1801 ; married Mary Connor 1833 ; died 
1843, aged 42 years. 

6. Mary Ann, born 1803, married Elijah Johnson 1825. 
Mr. Johnson died 1875, aged 74 years ; left children. 

7. Ahhy, born 1805; married Samuel Clarke 1828; died 
1847, aged 42 years ; left children. 

8.. JoJin Bay, born 1808; died 1818, aged 10 years. He 
was drowned in the Pettaquamscutt river near the foot of 
Tower Hill. 

9. Sarah Ann, born 1807 ; married William Bailey 1832. 
Mr. Bailey died 1854, aged 45 years. Mrs. Bailey died 1865, 
aged 58 years. They left no children. 

The children of Robert — seventh child of Christopher and 
grandson of Gov. William Robinson — were : 

1. Alexander S., born 1797 ; died 1819, aged 22 years. 

2. Samuel W., born 1799; never married; died 1862, 
aged 63 years. 

3. Robert, born 1802 ; never married ; died 1869, aged 67 

4. Sarah Ann, born 1808 ; never married ; died 1864, 
aged 56 years. 

The children of Matthew, ninth and youngest child of 
Christopher and grandson of Gov. William Robinson, were : 


1. John P., born 1799 ; died 1801, aged 2 years. He was 
twin brother to Rowland. 

2. Rowland, born 1799 ; married , 1834; died 1859, 

aged 60 years ; left children. 

3. Samuel S., born 1801 ; married , 1825 ; died 1874, 

aged 73 years ; left children. 

4. Maria, born 1803; died ■ 1831, aged 27 years; was 
never married. 

5. Frances TT., born 1804; married Benjamin Balch 1842; 
died 1845, aged 41 years ; left no children. 

6. William C, born 1806 ; died 1827, aged 21 years. 

7. Sarah Ann, born 1807 ; died 1832, aged 25 years. 

8. Edward TT., born 1809, married 1835 ; has children. 

9. Hannah, born 1811 ; married Edward Larned 1841. 

10. S. Ayrault, born 1814 ; not married. 

The children of James Robinson — son of Sylvester and 
grandson of Gov. William Robinson — were : 

1. William A., born 1797 ; married Dorcas B. Hadwein 
1828 ; died 1872, aged 75 years. The children of William 
A. and Dorcas B. Robinson were: 1. Mary A., married Jacob 
Dunnell. 2. James, married Anna Balch. 3. Edward H., 
married Grace M. Howard. 4. Caroline, died 1845. 5. Anne 
A. 6. William A., Jr., married Marian L. Swift. 

2. Edward Mott, born 1800 ; married Abby S. Howland ; 
died 1865. The children of Edward M. and Abby S. Robin- 
son were : 1. Hetty H., married Edward H. Green. 2. 
Isaac H., died in infancy. 

8. Anne A., born 1801 ; married Stephen A. Chase. Mr. 
Chase died in 1876. 

4. Sarah, born 1804 ; died in infancy. 

5. Attmore, twin of Sarah ; married Laura Hazard. The 
children of Attmore and Laura Robinson were : 1. James 
A., married, first, Mary E. Alger, second, Mary Ring. 2. 


Jane H. 3. Sylvester, died 1874. 4. George H., married 
Sarah Delamater. 5. Anne C. 6. William H. H. 

6. Rowland^ born 1806 ; died 1819. 

7. Sylvester (7., born 1808. 

The children of Benjamin Robinson — son of John and 
grandson of Gov. William Robinson — were : . 

1. George, born 1792 ; died 1795, aged 3 years. 

2. John., born 1794 ; married Rhuhama Robinson 1821 ; 
died 1841, aged 47 years. Mrs. Robinson died 1868, aged 71 
years. No children. 

3. George B., born 1796 ; married Mary R. Wells 1832. 
She died 1838, aged 27 years. Married Julianna Willes 
1839. Mr. Robinson died 1872, aged 76 years. 

4. Sylvester, born 1798 ; married Eliza Noyes 1822 ; died 
1867, aged 69 years. Their children were : 1. Ann B., 
married Nicholas Austin. 2. B. Franklin, married Caroline 
Rodman. 3. Hannah. 

5. William B., born 1800; married Harriet Robinson 
1827. She died 1828, aged 21 years. Married Eliza A. 
Robinson 1831. She died 1874, aged 72 years. Mr. Robin- 
son died 1875, aged 75 years. His children were: 1. Caro- 
line H., born 1828 ; died 1829. 2. Caroline E., born 1842 ; 
married Benjamin Sherman 1875. 

The children of John I. Robinson — son of John and grand 
son of Gov. William Robinson — were : 

1. James, born 1796 ; married Maria Gibbs 1832 ; died 
1874, aged 78 years. Mrs. Robinson died 1875, aged 70 
years. Their children were : 1. John C, born 1835 ; died 
1865, aged 30 years. 2. James, born 1837, died 1838. 3. 
Virginia, born 1839 ; died 1846. 4. Arabella, born 1845 ; 
married John A. Cross 1871. 

2. Mary Ann, born 1798 ; married Mr. Shotwell 1825 ; 
died 1870, aged 71 years, leaving one child.. 


The children of William C. Robinson — son of William C. — 
were : 

1. Frances W., born 1829; died 1851, aged 21 years. 

2. William A., born 1834 ; died 1837, aged 3 years. 

3. Ann Maria, born 1836 ; married Albei't J. S. Molinard 
1863. Captain Molinard died 1875, leaving two children. 
i\lrs. Molinard married Mr. Pendall, for her second husband, 

4. Edward Ayrault, born 1838 ; married Alice Canby 
1871 ; has children. j 

5. Gieorge Francis, boi-n 1843 ; married Ellen F. Lord 1 
1869 ; has children. 

The children of George B. Robinson — son of Benjamin 
and great-grandson of Gov. William Robinson — were : 

1. Maria, born 1833 ; died 1848. 

2. Elizabeth B., born 1835. 

3. John W., born 1836 ; died 1837. 

4. Mary W., born 1838 ; died 1838. 

5. Hannah W., born 1840. 

6. Greorge B., horn 1842; married. 

7. Thomas W., born 1843. 

The children of Samuel Perry Robinson — son of Jesse ] 
and great-grandson of Gov. William Robinson— were : 

1. Anna B., born 1824 ; died 1853, aged 29 years. 

2. William J., born 1828 ; died 1829. 

3. William, born 1830. 

4. Hannah T., born 1832 ; died 1834. 

5. Edwin M., born 1834 ; died 1861, aged 26 years. 

6. Sarah Jane, born 1837 ; died 1841. 

7. Alzayda B. W., born 1839. 

8. Behecca, born 1842; married Alfred Gregory 1870. 

9. Alvira Weeden, born 1843. 

10. Samuel P., born 1844. 

11. Kingston Goddard, born 1846. 


The children of George C. Robinson — eldest son of Chris- 
topher C. and great-grandson of Gov. William Robinson — 
were : 

1. Jeremiah P., born 1819; married Elizabeth DeWitt 
1843. Their children are: 1. Mary N., born 1844; died 
1845, aged 1 year, 4 months and 17 days. 2. Jeremiah P., 
born 1846; married Margaret D. Lan man 1867. 3. Elizabeth 
D., born 1851 ; married Lewis H. Leonard 1871. 4. Har- 
riet W., born 1853. 5. Isaac R., born 1856. 

2. Sarah H., born 1821 ; married William Rhoades Haz- 
ard 1851 ; died 1860, aged 38 years. 

3. Elizabeth A., born 1823 ; married James Stewart 1854. 

4. George C, born 1825 ; married Mary L. Arnold 1852. 
Their children are: 1. George C, born 1854. 2. Louisa L., 
born 1856. 3. Mary N., born 1858. 4. Richard A., born 
1860 ; died 1862, aged 1 year and 10 months. 5. Margaret, 
born 1864. 6. Anna D., born 1870 ; died 1871, aged 1 year, 
6 months and 12 days. 7. Edward Wanton, born 1872. 

5. Mary N., born 1827 ; married George G. Pearse 1849. 

The children of Thurston Robinson — son of Christopher 
C. and great-grandson of Gov. William Robinson — were : 

1. Morton, born 1825; married Ann E. Collins 1854. 
Their children are : 1. Annanth, born 1855; married Syl- 
vester Cross 1875. 2. Harriet E., born 1858.- 3. Fanny W., 
l)orn 1859. 4. Benjamin A., born 1862. 5. Morton P., 
born 1864. 

2. Harriet, born 1828 ; married Samuel Robinson. 

3. Benjamin, born 1832 ; died 1834. ' ' 

The children of Elisha A. Robinson — son of Christopher 
C. and great-grandson of Gov. William Robinson — were : 

1. Sarah Hull, born 1838 ; married John Eldred, of New- 
port, R. L, 1869. They have one son, John Robinson. 

2. G-eorge I., born 1840 ; married Jane Porter 1864. 


3. Christopher C, born 1842 ; manied Alvira A. Blanch- 
aid 1867; died February 8,1879. 

4. Misha A., born 1845 ; married Abby A. Proud 1874. 

5. Mar^ Anna, born 1847; died 1848, aged 5 months and 
16 days. 

6. Benjamin Hull, born 1849; died 1850, aged 6 months 
and 8 days. 

7. Francis Warner, born 1852 ; married Mary Nichols 

Arms of the Hassard's of Garden Hill — of Watesford, of Parkmore, County 
Antrim, and Skea House, County Fermanagh. 

Gules, two bars argent, on a chief, or, three escallops of the first. 

Crest. An escallop or. 

Motto. " Vive eu Espoir^^ above the crest, and "Fortuna viam ducit" beneath 
the shield. 

Genealogy of the Family of Hazard, 
OR Hassard. 


"When," says Gibbon somewhere in his "Rise and Fall" — 
I write without the book — "we see a long list of ancestors 
so ancient that they have no beginning, so worthy that they 
ought to have no end, we feel an interest in all their for- 
tunes ; nor can we blame the generous enthusiasm or harm- 
less vanity of those who are allied to the honoi's of the name." 

I have before me a neat quarto volume of seventy-two 
pages, printed at York, England, "H. Southeran, book-seller. 
Coney street, 1858," entitled "Outlines of the History and 
Genealogy of the Hassards and their Connections." The 
work is by "John Hassard Short, Esq., of Edlington Grove, 
County Lincoln," who assumed the surname of Short to en- 
title him to the Edlington estate. 

In his preface, which is addressed to "My Dear Children," 
the author says : "The origin of surnames is various ; many 
are taken from trades and professions — many are mere nick- 
names — probably the best are from the places in which fami- 
lies resided and where they possessed property. It seems 
that the Hassards, or Hazards, took theirs from the place in 
which they first settled in England. The Manor of Harold- 
esore, in the parish of Ingleborne, in the county of Devon, 
is in old deeds called the Manor of Hardiswardshore, other- 


wise Harclwardshore, otherwise Hasworth, otherwise Hazard. 
Lyons, 3Iagna Britannia, Devonshire. From this place they 
apparently branched off. One purchased lands in Derby- 
shire and Notts, in the reign of John, A. D. 1199, whose 
pedigree — as I have had the labor of collecting it from the 
'Rotnli Hundredorum,' 'Chancery Suits,' and wills in the 
record office of York — I insert. The other — our branch of 
the family — removed to Bristol." 

After adverting to some of the virtues and peculiarities 
that characterized tlieir ancestors, the preface thus concludes : 
''In conclusion, I exhort you, ray dear children, ever endeav- 
or to maintain the same honorable position in society,- to show 
the same patriotic zeal, and to devote an equal portion of 
your time and talents to the temporal and spiritnalistics ; be 
ashamed of anything which will bring a slur upon your good 
name ; take warning from the few unfortunate examples we 
have recorded, to avoid evil — that your names and exam- 
ples may one day be handed down with credit, to your pos- 
terity. Especially if the blood — as we are informed — of 
the noble and mighty Plantagenets, 'the men of iron and 
mailed breast and gauntleted hand and jewel crest,' flows in 
your veins, do not disgrace it.^Prove that you are worthy of 
such honor, by your manly and christian conduct, your per- 
severance, 3^our zeal in serving your country ; and above 
everything, by your heart's devotion to your Saviour and 
your God." 

Accompanying the book is an elaborate genealogical chart, 
bringing down the senior male members of the family in 
regular unbroken succession for . twenty-one generations. 
Under the caption of "History and Lineage," the compiler 
says : '-The family of Hassard, Hassart, or Hazard is of 
Norman extraction, and of considerable antiquity. At the 
time of the Conquest they were living on the borders of 
Switzerland, and distinguished by the ancient but long ex- 
tinct title of Duke de Charante. Two bearing this title 
visited the Holy Land as crusaders. 


"The cause of their first coming to our island is thus rehit- 
ed: In one of the early troubles of France, the Duke de 
Charante, being in i-ebellion and outlawed by the monarch, 
placed his duchess and youngest son, a boy of ten years of 
age, on board a vessel in a neighboring seaport, under the 
protection of Dr. Foulke. Intelligence having come to them 
that the duke and his two eldest sons had been defeated and 
slain in a great battle, their castles leveled and estates con- 
fiscated to the crown, the duchess, under Dr. Foulke's care, 
sailed for England, accompanied by her son, who became the 
first English ancestor of the family. 

"The duchess died in London. Probably at her death her 
son took his surname of Hazard or Hassard, from the manor 
of that name, and soon after settled in Gloucestershire, 
where his descendants continued to reside for more than a 
century. During this period two of them held important 
offices in Bristol, one of whom, Rainald, or Reginauld was 
appointed, A. D. 1216, one of the prepositors, under circum- 
stances which threw considerable light upon his character. 
The term [prepositor], it seems, signifies both 'the chief 
magistrate of a city' and 'the head or chief officer of the 
King in a town'. Sayer, in mentioning Mr. Hassard's ap- 
pointment, represents him as a grave and worshipful man, 
who was chosen to the office by the King — Henry III. — on 
his coming to Bristol, with his counselors and tutor, as to a 
place of safety." It seems that London was then in the 
possession of Louis, the King of Fi-ance. 

The genealogical chart commences with the Duke de 
Charante in the eleventh century, and gives the several 
generations of the family as follows: 

First G-eneration. — DuKE de Charante, living on the 
borders of Switzerland, circa 1060. 

Second Generation. — DuKE de Charante, crusader, 
killed in baltle against king of France. Duchess fled to 


TJiird Greneration. — 1. Duke de Charante, killed fight- 
ing by the side of his father. 2. Duke de Charante, also 
killed. 3 Hazard of Hazard. 

Fourth Greneration. — Reginauld Hazard, of Bristol, 
1216, married granddaughter of Dr. Foiilke. 

Fifth Greneration. — Robert Hazard, of Bristol, possessed 
property in Essex. 

Sixth Generation. — John, coroner of Bristol, in the reign 
of Edward II., A. D. 1312 ; mentioned by Sayer in his 
History and Antiquities of Bristol. Coroner was an of- 
ficer of the King of great importance in that day, none under 
the rank of Knight being allowed to fill it. 

Seventh Greneration. — Thomas, of Bristol, held lands in 
the county of Stafford. 

Eighth Generation. — Alexander Hassard, of Lyme 
Regis, 1377, whose name appears, A. D. 1377, as witness to a 
deed amongst the archives of Lyme Regis in the county of 
Dorset. From this period some of the family resided in and 
around Lyme for the next three centuries. 

Ninth Generation. — First Thomas Hassard, settled him- 
self for a time in Wiltshire, where he is mentioned as among 
the worthies of the county. . 

Tenth Generation. — John Hassard, Esq., lord of the fine 
manor of Seaton, resident there A. D. 1465. 

Eleventh Generation. — Robert, member of Parliament 
from Lyme in the reign of Henry VIII. Lyme was as early 
as the reign of Edward I., one of the one hundred and forty- 
five places in England that sent members to Parliament. 

Twelfth Generation. — John, Mayor of Lyme in the reign 
of both Edward VI. and Mary for many years, extending 
from 1498 to 1557-8 inclusive. Mr. Hassard appears to have 
been a man of many sterling qualities and of great influence. 
Several pages are devoted to him. His children were : 1. 
Gilbert, rector of Trusham 1541. 2. Robert, Lord de Beer 
and Bridport ; will registered A. D. 1543. 3. Ann, married 


John Yonge, Esq., of Colly ton, son of the Member of Par- 
liament for Plymouth. 

Thirteenth Greneration. — Robert, of Charmouth, member 
of Parliament 1589-90. Robert's fourth son was John, Lord 
de Beer, member of Parliament 1616, born 1555. 

Fourteenth Greneration. — John, son of John, Lord de Beer, 
Charmouth, Lyme, &c. For many years mayor of Lyme, 
also meniber of Parliament. 

Fifteenth Generation. — John, of Charmouth, born at Brid- 
port ; baptized there 1625. ''To him was bequeathed by 
his father lands in Lyme Regis, also in great Bridport, Al- 
lington, Charmouth, Axminister, Waldich, and Parson's 
Holme near Lyme." He was mayor of Lyme and member 
of Parliament. Says the author, "Before leaving the member 
of Parliament we may give a single proof of the esteem in 
which the family was held. In comparing several of the 
accounts of the different members for their journej's, we 
find that those of the Hassards exceeded all others by their 
being allowed an extra horse for their servants, wine at their 
meals, separate bedrooms, etc., all of which, while they seem 
necessaries now, were luxuries neither expected nor granted 
in those earl}' times to others." 

Sixteenth Generation. — John, of London, born circa 1650, 
like his brothers left the country of Dorset for that of Mid- 
dlesex, where he purchasedlland, and a house in London. 

Seventeenth Generation. — John, of Bloomsbury Square, 
in the county of Middlesex, sole heir to his father, born 
1680, married A. D. 1714, Elizabeth, daughter of Joseph 
Short, Esq., lord of the manors of Edlington, East Real, 
Belleau and Claythorpe, in the county of Lincoln, and of 
the moiety of Clerkenwell in the county of Middlesex ; and 
his wife, Elizabeth, daughter and heir of George Longue, of 
Clerkenwell and East Kirby, Esq. Belleau and Clay- 
thorpe fell before his death, probably by purchase, into the 
hands of his godfather, the then Duke of Ancaster, and are 


yet possessed by his descendant, the Lord Willoughby 
D'Erseby. Mr. Hassard left one son. 

Eighteenth Generation. — Henky Hassard, of Bloomsbu- 
]y Square, London, Esq., who married Anne, daughter of 
Valentine Fitzhugh of Mile End House, county of Middle- 
sex, Esq. He died in 1796, aged 75 years, and was buried 
in the Church of St. James, Clerkenwell. Mrs. Hassard, 
after the death of her husband, resided with lier son. Colo- 
nel Short, at Edlington, and was buried there in the family 
vault, beneath the chanceJ of the Church of St. Helena, A. 
D. 1809. 

Ni7ietee7ith Generation. — CoL. Henry Hassard, J. P. and 
Dep. Lieut, for Suffolk, assumed the name and arms of Short 
only on taking possession of Edlington Guove. 

Twentieth Ge7ieratio7i. — Richard Samuel Hassard, born 
at Castleford, county of York, of Great Bealings, in the 
county of Suffolk, Esq. On the death of his brothers he 
became sole heir, assumed the surname and arms of Short, 
and took up his residence at Edlington Grove. 

Tiventy-jirst Generation. — John Hassard Short, of Ed- 
lington Grove, J. P. and Dep. Lieut, for the county of Lin- 
coln, the present senior representative of the family of Has- 
sard. His childien wei-e : 1. Fitzhugh Hassard, born Octo- 
ber 27, 1832 ; died November 3, 1849. 2. Edward Hassard, 
born August 22, 1848. 3. Algernon Lawson Hassard, born 
Feburuary 20, 1852. 4. Agnes Margarette. 5. Marian. 6. 
Caroline Mary. 7. Henrietta Frances, died in infancy 1839. 
8. Frances Adela. 9. Katherine Jane. 10. Gertrude Elm- 

The genealogical chart also contains a multitude of the 
names of members of the family who sprang from senior 
branches. Many of these held distinguished positions in 
civil affairs and in the army, ranking from lieutenants, cap- 
tains and colonels to major-general. Although there are but 


two main branches of the family designated in the genealo- 
gical chart, there are several minor offshoots referred to in 
the history. Each one of these has its own peculiar family 
crest and coat of arms. The original one was an "escalop 
shell proper," surmounting a palm, the last indicating that 
the family had visited the Holy Land as crusaders, and the 
former suggestive of the fact that in that age of superstition 
they had also performed pilgrimage to the holy shrine of St. 
Jago de Compostella, which, says Mr. Short, "at one time 
partook of the character of a mania." 

The branch of the family from which the Rhode Island 
Hazai'ds claim descent as tabulated in the chart, branches 
off ia the third generation from "Hazard of Hazard." 

Fourth G-eneration. — Reginauld Hazard. 

Fifth Creneration.—\iA^KRT>, of Notts, A. D. 1199. 

Sixth G-eneration. — 1. Thomas Hassard. 2. John, coun- 
ty of Notts. 

Seventh Generation. — William, married Hawissa, A. D. 

Eighth Generation. — Thomas, of Radcliffe, county of 
Notts, 1297. 

Ninth Generatio7i. — Philip, of Kynson, county of Notts, 
certified heir at the age of 27, A. D. 1310. 

Tetith Generation. — THOMAS, A. D. 137^. 

Eleventh Generation. — Thomas, A. D. 1433. 

Tivelfth Generation. — 1. Phllip, King's Forester, A. D. 
1568. 2. Thomas, county of Notts, a brother. 

Thirteenth Generation. — John, of Stapleford, county of 
Notts, 1556. 

Fourteenth Generation.— WiIjIjIAM, married Ellianor, daugh- 
ter and heir of Heiiry Sacheverell, Esq., of Radcliffe, county 
of Notts. He was living at Radcliffe, on Soar, 1662. 

[Here occurs a break in the regular succession of this 
branch of the family, which is recommenced later with a 


member of the Irish branch, then of recent origin, as fol- 
lows : J 

Fifteenth G-eneration. — Robert Hazard ,of Enniskillen, 
or Enniskeen, buried there May 12, 1668. 

Sixteenth G-eneration. — Joen of Enniskillen, married Alice. 
Boih were buried at Enniskillen, John 1681, Alice January 
15, 16b7. 

Seventeenth Generation.— John, mariied Anne, living 
1701. His sister Jane was buried at Enniskillen June 3, 1703. 

Eighteenth Generatio7i. — James, baptized at Enniskillen 
June 3, 1703. 

Here the genealogical record of this branch of the family 

It is from the Nottingham branch of the ancient family 
that the Rhode Island Hazards claim to be descended and to 
have so long perpetuated its favorite names of Thomas and 
Robert. And certaiidy the English chart and history com- 
piled by Mr. John Hassard Short affords testimony that goes 
to confirm the truth of the tradition. He says : "The first 
Thomas Hassard, of Rhode Island, was a brother of the Has- 
sard who first settled in Ireland." The only error is that 
instead of the latter going over as an officer in King Wil- 
liam's arm}-, he obtained his first grant of estates in Ireland 
from King James or Charles I., for military services rendered. 
and was afterward* engaged in the war under William of 

The author of the history says of Captain George Has- 
sard of the army : "Captain Hassard left three sons, Jason, 
William, and Robert. The eldest son, Jason [a familiar 
name among the earlj' Rhode Island family], born A. D. 1617, 
high sheriff of Fermanagh 1649, the year Cromwell landed 
in Ireland, js generaly looked upon as the 'Adventurer,' in- 
asmuch as more is known of him than of his father or his 
brothers, and he certainl}' lived at and most probably pur- 
chased Mullymesker, where the family long resided. This 


estate appears to have been purchased about 1641." MuUy- 
inesker was about three miles from Enniskillen, where 
several families of the Hassards now reside. 

The narrative continues : "The Hassards especially dis- 
tinguished themselves by taking an active part in the sieges 
'of Enniskillen and Londonderry. The horrors of these sieges 
were inconceivable. Sir William Cole was at that time Gov- 
ernor and Provost of Enniskillen, and we read that it was 
bravely defended by the English settlers, among whom our 
ancestors were eminent. In July, 1689, Mr. Hassard's troop 
of Enniskillens was again engaged, when we find that the 
Enniskilleners severally defeated the three divisions of James' 
army — the fiist under Sarsfield, the second under the Duke 
of Berwick, and the third under Macarthy. * * * 

Mr. Hassard and his nephew were also engaged in the bat- 
tle of the Boyne — 1690 — when the Enniskillens behaved 
with great valor, and at one time turned the tide of battle." 

The following account of the Hassards of Gaideii Hill, 
Ireland, is attached to Short's history of the family: 

Jason, eldest son of Captain George Hassard, first adven- 
turer of MuUymesker, Esq., left two sons. 1. Robert, of 
Carne, whose branch is now extinct. 2. Richard, born 
about 1671 ; married 1706 Mary, daughter of John Ennery, 
of Ballyccuniell House, county of Cavan, Esq., and had 
issue, Richard, of Garden Hill. Richard married Jane, daugh- 
ter of J. Little, Esq., county of Fermanagh, and had issue: 
(a) Jason, of Garden Hill, (b) John, of Toam, ancestor of 
the Hassards of Waterford, of whom hereafter, (c) Wil- 
liam, major in the 44th Regiment. 

Jason (^Richard, Richard^ Jason^ Captain Q-eorge IIa8sard), 
born 1734; married 1777 Ann Montgomery, daughter of 
Alexander Montgomery, of Clontarf County, Dublin ; died 
1812, leaving six sons and two daughters. 1. Richard, of 
Garden Hill, boin 1778 ; captain in the 74th Highlanders 
and brevet major ; died 1812 — immediately after his father — 


unmaniecl. 2. Jason, born 1780 , died at Garden Hill, 1852, 
unmarried. 3. William, born 1781 ; succeeded his brother 
Jason ; treasurer of the county of Fermanagh from 1813 to 
November, 1847 ; shot by an assassin in the avenue of Gar- 
den Hill. He died unmarried. It was owing to his debts 
that five thousand or six thousand acres of his estate were 
sold under the Encumbered Estates act. The remainder of 
this estate, a 3'^et handsome property, is divided between 
Alexander Hassard, of Garden Hill, Esq., lieutenant in the 
96th regiment of foot, and the family of the late Sir Francis 
Hazard. Some half century ago I used to hear that William 
Hassard, of Garden Hill, fatted annually for market three 
thousand beeves on his Garden Hill estate. 4. Alexander, 
captain in the 6th Enniskillin dragoons, a VVaterloo officer. 
He was desperately wounded in that battle, and when lying- 
unhorsed and bleeding on the field, was pierced entirely 
through tlie body by a Polish lancer ; notwithstanding which 
he recovered and married, in 1836, Elizabeth Bolton Has- 
sard, daughter of his cousin. Captain Jason Hassard, of the 
74th Highlanders. He died September, 1845, leaving issue: 
(a) Alexander, present representative of Garden Hill, Esq., 
bom 1837. (b) John, of Bawnbay House, county of Cavan, 
high sheriff for the county of Cavan in 1824 ; married, in 1818 
Charlotte Desey, youngest daughter of Robert Desey, Esq., 
of Ravensdale House, near Maynorth, and Merrion square, 
Dublin. He was killed by a fall from his horse, in 1830, 
leaving issue. 

John Hassard, Esq., of Toam, second son ot Richard, of 
Garden Hill, 1767 ; had issue. 

Richard, born 1768 ; a lieutenant in the Royal Artillery, 
and afterwards captain in the Waterford Militia ; left issue. 

Sir Francfs John Hassard, barrister-at-law, boin 1780 ; 
recorder at Waterford, knighted in 1810 ; died in 1822, leav- 
ing issue. 


John, captain in the 74th Highbinders, born 1782 ; died 
unmarried 1825. 

Jason, captain in the 74th Highlanders, born 1785 ; died 
in 1842, leaving issue. 

William Henry, born 1790, barrister-at-law ; recorder 
of Waterford in 1828; left issue. 

Michael Darbin Hassard, Esq., residing at Glenville, 
member of Parliament for Waterford, present representative 
of this family ; married Anne, third daughter of Sir Fran- 
cis Hassard Knight; has issue. 

The following additional items are recorded in Short's 
History, concerning the Nottingham branch of the family, 
from which, as before said, the Rhode Island Hazards claim 
to be descended : 

A. D. 1199. Walter Hazard, one the sons of the first 
Hazard, of Hazard, or Hassai-f, and Mabel, his wife, we find 
from ancient Latin records possessed of certain osier lands at 
Pokinton, in the county of Derby. He appears to have left 
two sons, Thomas and John. 

A. D. 1240. Thomas, we learn from the same manuscript, 
formed one of twelve jurors on the tiial of Burg in Malmes- 
byr. John seems to have acted as a magistrate in the case of 
William, son of Ade de Grimeston, who was indicted for 
theft and taken to York Castle. 

1270. We next find William and his wife Hawissa, who 
had a trial respecting service of land in Radcliffe and Kyns- 
ton, in the county of Notts, defendants, against Peter Pigot, 
lord of the Manor of Radcliffe on Soar, plaintiff. Judg- 
ment was given in favor of defendants that they they ought 
to render none. They left issue a son, Thomas Hassard. 

1298. In the 27th Edward I., Thomas Hassard, aged 28 
years, was found heir of the aforesaid William, who had a 
house and some land at Radcliffe, held of the king for X3, 
8s., 9d. He left a son, Philip. 


1310. In the third year of Edward II., Philip Hassard 
was certified heir of Thomas at the age of 27 years. 

1370. Thomas Hassard appears to have been Philip's 
heir and left a son, 1433, Thomas. 

From the Valor Ecclesiasticus of Henry VIII. we find : 
1508. Philip and Thomas [most probably their descend- 
ants], the former the King's forester, held lands under his 
Majesty to the value of iijs iiijd. The latter connected 
with the College of Arundel. 

1556. John Hassard was plaintiff in a trial in the reign 
of Elizabeth, respecting a tenement and sixty acres of land 
in Sandyacre, county of Derby, and in Stapleford, count}^ of 
Notts.Roger Columbell, Esq., defendant. We must observe 
here that William Hassard, son of John, afterwards married 
the said Roger Columbell's widow. At this period, says the 
author, the family seem to have branched off again, one pos- 
sessing property at Kirton and Laxton, county of Notts, 
the other at Radcliffe, in the same county. 

1562. William Hassard, son of the last named John, 
married Ellianor, only daughter and heiress of Henry Sache- 
verell, Esq., de Radcliffe, a scion of an ancient and knightly 
fnmily, and vs^idow of Roger Columbell, Esq. They were 
living at Radcliffe on Soar at the time of the visitation of 
that county, A. D. 1662 — perhaps a misprint for 1562 — and 
his wife was buiied A. D. 1564. 

"Having no special object," says the author, "we have not 
traced this branch farthei", nor ascertained whether any of 
their descendants are now living, but in course of our resear- 
ches we have examined one or the other of theii' wills of later 
date in the record office of York." 

Notwithstanding what Mr. Short, the author of the His- 
tory, says above, the family chart siiovvs that he did never- 
theless discover a missing link in the line of succession of 
the Nottingham branch of the family that connected it with 
the Enniskillen Hassards, and had he persevered in his re- 
searches he might have found two other missing links, the 


one connecting the family with tlie Long Island, Georgia 
and Carolina Hazards, and the other with those of Rhode 
Island, from whence the prolific race have flowed into and 
multiplied in nearly or quite every State and Territory in 
the Union. 

I again quote from Short's History: ''The late Major 
General Hassaid, who was, from 1830' until he became gen- 
eral, colonel commanding the Royal Engineers in the Ionian 
Islands, with a salary of X1195 per annum, and who died 
in Malta A. D. 1848, is supposed to be a descendant of John, 
the son of Jason, who was attainted, together with his uncle, 
Jason Hassart, Esq., by James II. 's Parliament, in 1680, for 
taking the side of William and Mary, and for his firm prot- 
estantism. General Hassard left a son. Major P'airfax Has- 
sard, of the Royal Engineers, who is now — 1858' — inlndia, and 
ranks among the heroes of the Alma, Balaklava and Sevas- 

In addition to the above extracts from John Hassard 
Short's ''Outlines of the History and Genealogy of the Has- 
sards and their Connections," I have taken the following ac- 
counts — abiidged — from records of several of the Irish 
branches of the family, in the "Landed Gentry of Great 
Britain and Ireland," pp. ^Q-i:, 665, vol. 1. The work in two 
volumes is to be found in the Astor Library, New York. 

Hassard of Garden Hill. — Alexander Jason Hassard, 
Esq., of Garden Hill, County Fermanagh, born September, 
1887 ; 76th regiment. The family of Hassard is of Norman 
extraction, and of considerable antiquity. The orthog- 
raphy was originally "Hassart." The long extinct title of 
Duke de Charante was in this family Two members there- 
of visited the Holy Land as crusaders. Soon after the Con- 
quest a branch became seated in Gloustershire and after- 
words removed to Dorsetshire. The first English ancestor 
from whom an unbroken succession can be traced was 
John Hassart, or Hassard, A. D. 1469, lord of the man- 


or of Seaton, seven miles from Lyme. A long line of de- 
scendants follow, among whom is the eldest son, John Has- 
SARD, born 1498, mayor of Lyme in 1550 and 1557. Rob- 
ert Hassard, several times mayor of Lyme and member 
of Parliament for the borough in 1580 and 1593. 

John Hassard, eldest son of John, born 1531, mayor of 
Lyme in 1567, 1572, 1578, 1582, 1588, 1594, 1601 and 1606, 
altogether seven times ; was returned to Parliament for the 
borough in 1585, 1586 and 1603. The gallery at the west 
end of the nave of the church of Lyme Regis bears the fol- 
lowing inscription on its front in capital letters : "John Has- 
sard built this to the glory of Almighty God, in the eightieth 
year of his age. Anno Domini 1611," and on the north side 
appears, "John Hassard, seven maior, deceased the 7th day 
of November, Anno Domini 1612." 

Jason and George Hassard, accompanied by some of the 
Caldwells, went over to Ireland in the reign of Charles II., 
after having previously raised troops in the south of England. 
They assumed the motto of '■'■Fortuna Viarn Bucit,'' upon 
landing. They had eventually large tracts of land granted 
them in Fermanagh and adjoining counties. Tiie Has- 
sards were distinguished at the sieges of Enniskillen and 

Jason Hassard, Esq., of Garden Hill and Toam, born 
1617; was mayor of Lyme before he departed for Ireland. 
His will bears date 21st October, 1690. 

John, son of Jason, the supposed ancestor of the family 
of the late Major General Hassard, of the Royal Engineers. 

John, of Toam, ancestor of the Hassards of Waterford. 

Richard, of Garden Hill, born 1778 ; captain 74th High- 

William, of Garden Hill, born 1781; for many years 
treasurer for the county of Fermanagh ; assassinated in the 
avenue of Garden Hill, 13th November, 1845. 

Alexander, captain 6th Enniskillen dragoons. 

John, of Bawnbay House, county Cavan, high sheriff for 


county Cavan in 1824 ; killed by a fall fiom his hoise in 

Robert Deey H., bom 1822 ; 2d Bombay European Light 

The family aims are also given in connection with the 

Hassard of Waterford {abridged). — Michael Dobbyn 
Hassard, Esq., of Glenville, County Waterford, M. P. and 
J. P. and high sheiiff in 1853 ; born October, 1817 ; niarried, 
August, 1846, Anne, daughter of the late Sir Francis John 
Hassard. This family is a branch of the Hassards of Garden 
Hill, county Fermanagh. 

Richard, son of Michael, born 1768 ; lieutenant in the 
Royal Irish Artillery, and afterwards captain in the Water- 
ford Militia. 

Sir Francis John, born 1780 , recorder of the city of 
Waterford ; knighted in 1810. 

John, captain 74th Highlanders ; born 1782 ; died 1825. 

Jason, also captain 74th Highlanders ; born 1785 ; died 

Jason, born 1826; major 59th regiment. 

William Henry, born 1790; recorder of the city of 
Waterford in 1828. The family arms are also given. 

Hassard of Skea {abridged). — Rev. Edward Hassard, 
rector of Rath Keale and chancellor of the diocese of Lim- 
erick ; succeeded to the representation of the famil}'^ of Has- 
sard of Skea, at the death of his father, 10th August, 1847. 

The family of Hassard of Skea is a branch of the old 
English stock of Hassard of Lyme. 

George Hassard, Esq., of Skea, born May, 1775 ; J. P.; 
served as high sheriff of county of Fermanagh in 1818 and 

Edward, present head of the Skea family. 

Henry, barrister-at-law. 

William, of Mountjoy square, Dublin, barrister. 

Francis, in holy orders, rector of Fuerty, County Ros- 

The family^ arms are also given. 

Genealogy of the Hazards of 
Rhode Island. 


"The Hazards," sj\ys Updike, page 320, "are a numerous 
family, the most so in Narragansett, if not in the State. 
Watson, in the ' Historic Tales of Olden Time,' says, 
'Mrs. Maria Hazard, of South Kingstown, R. I., and mother 
of the Goveinor, died in 1739, at tlie age of one hundred 
years, and could count up five hundred children, grand-chil- 
dren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren, two 
hundied and five of whom were then living. A granddaugh- 
ter of hers had already been a grandmother fifteen years! 
Probably this instance of Rhode Island's fruitfulness may 
match against the world.'" 

In the following tables I have copied largely from data that 
have been furnished me by Miss Emily Hazard, daughter of 
the late Hon. Benjamin Hazard of Newport ; from manu- 
script furnished me by Rowland T. Robinson, of Ferrisburgh, 
Vt. ; from E. R. Potter's "Early Flistory of Narragansett," 
and from Updike's "History of the Narragansett Church." 

From these and other sources, I learn that the first Has- 
sard — pronounced Hazard — that settled in Rhode Island was 
Thomas HASSARD,i*or Hazard, who came from England, 
some say Wales, and settled on the island of Rhode Island 

*The small ttgures affixed to the names of the Hazards mark the generations 
from Thomas the originator of the Rhode Island Hazards. 


about the year 16S9, by way of New Jersey or Long Island, 
and Massachusetts Bay. Tradition says that Thomas was ac- 
companied by a nephew, who was the ancestor of the New 
York and Southern branches of the family. 

Thomas Hazard was one of the first settlers of Aquid- 
neck, and was appointed, with Nicholas Easton and Robert 
Jeffries, to lay out the town of Newport. The colonial rec- 
ords of Massachusetts contain the following entries, which 
have been furnished me by Mr. Hazard Stevens, son of the 
late General Stevens, late Governor of Washington Territo- 
ry: "September 3,1634, Mr. Nicholas Easton admitted freeman^ 
[at the General Court] "; ''May 25, 1636, Thomas Hassai'd^) 
admitted freeman." 

Arnold in his history of the State of Rhode Island, vol. 1, 
page 132, says : "The colony [Aquidneck] had now so 
greatly increased that a division was deemed expedient. A 
meeting was held, at which the following agreement was en- 
tered into by the signers, by whom the settlement of New- 
port was commenced on the south-west side of the island: 
' PocASSET, on the 28th of the 2d, 1639. 

'It is agreed by us whose hands are underwritten, to prop- 
agate a Plantation in the midst of the island, or elsewhere ; 
and to engage ourselves to bear equal charges, answerable to 
our strength and estates in common ; and that our determi- 
nation shall be by major voices of judge and elders, the judge 
to have a double voice. 



William Coddington, Judge- 

Nicholas Easton, ~^ 
John Coggeshall, i 
William Brenton, | 
John Clark, )>Elders. 

Jeremy Clarke, I ' 
Thomas Hazard, | 
Henry Bull, j 

William Dyre, Clerk.' " 


Three children came with Thomas Hazard to Portsmouth, 
the northern town of Aquidneck : 1. Hannah^, married 
Stephen Wilcox. 2. MarthaS, married Ichabod Potter. 3. 
Robert^, a boy of four years of age. 

Thomas Hazard married his second wife, Martha, the wid- 
ow of Thomas Sheriffe, of Portsmouth, about 1675, by whom 
he had no offspring. His will, signed August 6, 1677, is re- 
corded in Portsmouth, in which he empowers "my loving- 
wife, Martha Hazard, whole and sole executrix of all and 
every part of my estate." He was buried on the farm lying 
on the west shore of the island, next north of Lawton's 
Valley, which farm is now occupied as an asylum for the 
poor of the town of Portsmouth. 

Second Cieneration. — Rober'L'2 (^Thomasi^), born in Eng- 
land, 1635, came with his father to Portsmouth, R. I.; was a 
deputy to the General Assembly 1664. In 1670 it appears 
on the records that he was a juror and a commissioner in 
Portsmouth. In 1671, he purchased five hundred acres of 
land in Kingstown, of the Pettaquamscutt purchasers, sit- 
uated between Rose Hill and Saucatucket river to which he 
permanently lemoved in 1695. His children were : 1. Thom- 
as^, born 1658 ; admitted freeman in Portsmouth, 1684. 2. 
George^, admitted freeman of the colony, 1696. 3. Ste- 
phen^. 4. Robert^. 5. Jeiemiah^. Robert^ died possessed 
of a large property, and was buried by his eldest son in 

Third Creneration. — Thomas Hassakd^ {Robert^, 
Thomas^ ),boin 1658 ; became a very great land-holder. He 
owned Popasquash in Bristol, and exchanged it for the 
.ITencks and the Gov. George Brown farms in Boston Neck, 
the two comprising some seveii hundred acres of land. April 
28, 1698, Thomas Hassard, of Boston Neck, bought for £700 
(currency) three hundred acres of the Sewall farm, bound- 
ed in part on land of Jahleel Brenton. The records of Kings- 
town, now South Kingstown, abound with land conveyances 
to Thomas Hassard, the son of Robert. His children were : 


1. Robert*. 2. George *. 3. Jeremiah *. 4. Benjamin*, 
born 1701. 5. Stephen*. 6. Jonathan*. 7. Thomas*. 8. 
Hannah*. 9. Sarah*. 10. Mary*. 

Before his death, which occurred in 1749 at the age of 92, 
Thomas Hassard deeded to his son Robert, besides other 
land, two hundred acres lying in Boston Neck, being what 
is now known as the "Wilkins Updike farm." To his son 
George he conveyed two hundi-ed acres, lying next south of 
the above named farm, the same being now owned and oc- 
cupied by his lineal descendant, Thomas G. Hazard ; also to 
the same two hundred acres, comprising the farm next south, 
now belonging to Dr. Thomas M. Potter. To his son Benja- 
min, he conveyed three hundred and thirty acres, now known 
as "The Jencks farm." To his son Jonathan he conveyed 
the two farms lying next south of the above, now known as 
the "Gov. George Brown farm," and the "John J. Watson 
Boston Neck Pier farm," the first named containing three 
hundred and thirty, and the last two hundred and nine acres. 
These six farms, aggregating nearly fifteen hundred acres 
(old measure), all laj^ adjoining on the southern part of Bos- 
ton Neck and used to be noted for their great fertility. 

Fourth Generation. — Robert Hazard* {Thomas^, Rob- 
ert^, Thomas^), lived on the Wilkins Updike farm in Boston 
Neck, and was buried in 1762 in a family burying ground on 
the farm now owned and occupied by William Nichols, on 
Tower Hill, which was formerly a part of Robert HazardV 
great landed estate. The children of Robert* were : 1. 
Thomas^. 2. Jonathan^. 3. Richard^. 4. Sarah^. Rob- 
ert Hazard was reputed in his day to be the largest farmer in 
New England. We used to have in my father's house one 
of his cheese vats which held nearly a bushel, and it was 
said that he had twelve cheeses of its size made daily. 

Fifth Generation. — Thomas Hazard ^ (^Bobert^, Thom- 
as^., Hobert^, Thomas'^}, lived and died on the farm now own- 
ed by William Nichols, mentioned before, in the year 1795, 
aged 76 years, and was buried in the Friends burial ground, 


situated on the southern extremity of Tower Hill, near where 
the Tower Hill House now stands. He married Elizabeth, 
daughter of Gov. William Robinson, who died in the Dr. Sen- 
ter house, corner of Parade and Thames street, Newport, R.I., 
in 1804, aged 79 years, and was buried in the Friends bury- 
ing ground in that town. Their childien were: 1. Sarah ^, 
born 1747; died 1753. 2. Roberte. 

Sixth G-eneration. — Robert Hazard^ {TJiomas^, Robert^, 
Thomas^, Eobei't^, Thomas^'), hovn 11 5S ; moved sometime 
before his death to Ferrisburgh,Vermont,where he died May 3, 
1833. He married Sarah Fish 1781. His wife died 1847. 
Their children were: 1. Thomas^. 2. Elizabeth^, died young. 
3. Rowland Robinson^, married Fanny Carpenter; no issue. 4. 
David Fish'^, married Sarah B. Rogers. Their children were: 
(a) Sarahs, (^v,) John 8. (c) Ann 8. 5. Robert Borden 7, 
married and had children : (a) Mary 8. (b) Martha^. 6. 
Sarah 7, married Nicholas Holmes. Their children were : 
(a) Robert, (b) Titus, (c) John, (d) Mary, (e) Julia. 
7. Lydia'', married Schuyler Lewis. 8. Mary 7, died unmar- 
ried. 9. William '7, married Hannah Rogers ; no issue. He 
married as his second wife Lucia Burroughs. Their children 
were: (a) William B^. (b) Robert^. 10. Robinson^, died 
unmarried. 11. Stephen'^, married Sarah Odell. Their chil- 
dren were : (a) George G. 8 (b) Henry 8. (c) Lydia^. (d) 
Robert^, (e) Elizabeth^. All the above named children of 
Robert Hazard*^, except the last four, were born in Narra- 
gansett, Rhode Island. 

Seventh Creneration. — Thomas Hazard^ (^Rohert^, 
Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas'^), married 
Lydia Rogers. Their children were : 1. Robert^. 2. Rufus^, 
married, first, Sarah Allen ; second, Ruth Holmes ; no Issue. 
3. Seneca^, married, first, Elizabeth Allen. Their child was: 
(a) Elizabeth^. He married as his second wife Persis Hoag. 
Their children were : (b) Persis C.a, died unmarried, (c) 
Seneca^, married Frances Hand. (d) Pliny, ^ died unmar- 



ried. (e) Russell 9, died young. 4. A clisah^, married 

Taber. Their child was : (a) Richard B. 

Eighth Generation. — Robert Hazard^ (TAomas", Robert^., 
Thowas^, Roherf^., Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^^, married 
Elizabeth Alexander. Their children were : 1. Ezra 9. 2. 
Sylvia 9. Robert Hazard died some years ago. 

Ninth Generation. — Ezra Hazard^ (Robert,^ Thomas'^, 
Robert^, Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^, Robert'^, Thomas'^^, 
married Catharine Williams. He is living on his own fine 
paternal farm in North Ferrisburgh, Vermont, and under 
the same roof tree beneath which his father and grandfather 
were born, and where his great-grandfather lived a)id died. 
He is now the male representative of the senior branch of the 
. Hazard family in a direct line, and from all I saw of him on 
a recent visit, and can learn, he inherits the like resolute, in- 
dependent character that the self-reliant race of the true 
"snip" breed have ever asserted and maintained. 

As may be seen, the christian names of the senior sons of 
the family, for eight generations preceding Ezra, have all 
been regularly alternated from Thomas to Robert — the two 
favorite names among their English ancestry. 

Thomas Hazard ^ (Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^, Rob- 
ert^^ Thomas'^) , third child of Thomas ; born 1755 ; died 

Thomas ifeg»t»B»«^ Hazard^ {Thomas^, Robert^, Tho?n- 
as^, Robert^, Thomas'^), fourth child of Thomas ; born 1758; 
married Anna Rodman, sister of Samuel Rodman, of New 
Bedford, to which city he removed and amassed a large for- 
tune in the whaling business, and afterwards owned and 
occupied a house at No. 80 Beekman street. New York, 
where he died about 1829. His children were : 1. Thomas 
R'. 2. Samuel'. 3. Sarahs 4. Elizabeths 5. Ann^ 6. Ed- 

/ Thomas Rodman Hazard'^ (Thomas^, Thomas^, Rob- 
ert^, Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^). Samuel L. Hazard^, of 


West Castleton, Vermont, son of Thomas R., has furnished 
me with the following statistics of his father's descend- 
ants. Thomas Rodman Hazard^ married Margaret Every, of 
Liverpool, England in 1808 or 1809. Their children were: 
1. Eliza^, born 1810 ; married Allan G. Callom, Delhi town- 
ship, Hamilton county, Ohio, 1826. Their children were 
four sons and three daughters. 2. Thomas R.^, born 1812; 
lost at sea August, 1842 ; never married. 3. Samuel L.^, 
born June 16, 1813 •; married Olivia B. Woodman, of Wil- 
ton, Maine, February 9, 1840. Their children were : (a) 
Oliver W^, born in Boston, January 10, 1841 : married Mar- 
garet Fulton, of Cambridge, Mass., June 27, 1864 ; has one 
chihl, Anna, born in Cambridge, April 8, 1866. (b) Thomas 
R.^, born Boston, April 4, 1843; married Ida G. Shattuck, 
of Boston, May 24, 1868; has one child, Carrie^o, born in 
West Castleton, Vermont, June 25, 1869. (c) Samuel Lister^, 
born in Cambiidge, September 23, 1854. 4. Edward^, born 
1816 ; married Mary Anderson, of Delhi towns- hip, Ohio, 
1839. Their children were : Robert ^ born 1840 ; Maria^ 
born 1842: EmmaS, born 1844 ; William 9, born 1846 ; Ella^, 
born 1848; Elizabeth^, born 1850; Qharles^, born 1852; 
Minnie^, born 1854; Alice9, born 1855; Thomas R. 9, born 
1856. 5. William 8, born 1818 ; died 1849 unmarried. 6. 
Robert P. 8, born 1821 ; married Eliza Mixer, of Delhi town- 
ship, Ohio, 1842. Their children were: Thomas R.^, born 
1843, died 1861 ; EbenS, born 1845 ; Arabel^, born 1847; 
Chariest, born 1851. Robert P. Hazard died in 1865. 

Samuel^ — second child of Thomas Hazard^ — ,married 
Rebecca Peace, of Philadelphia, and resided in Franklin 
street. New York, where they both died, leaving no children. 

Sarah 7 — third child of Thomas Hazard^ — married John 
H. Howland, a leading and wealthy merchant of New York. 
Their children were : William ; Martha, married Mr. Hook- 
er ; John, married ; Mary, married Mr. Pell ; Sarah, married 
Mr. Osgood. 

Elizabeth^^ fourth child of Thomas Hazard^— married 



Jacob Barker, of New York City. Mr. Abraham Barker, of 
Philadelphia, has kindly furnished me with the following 
genealogical statistics. Jacob Barker and Elizabeth Hazard 
were married at New Bedford, Mass., August 27, 1801. 
Elizabeth Hazard, daughter of Thomas and Anna Hazard, 
was born in Rhode Island, December 2, 1783. She died in 
New York September 18, 1861, aged 77 years, 9 months and 
16 days, and was buried in the Friends burying ground, 
Brooklyn, Long Island. Jacob Barker was born on Swan 
Island, Kennebec, Maine, December 17, 1779, and died in 
Philadelphia at the residence of his son, Abraham Barker, 
December 26, 1871, aged 92 years and 9 days, and was buried 
in Laurel Hill Cemetery. Their children were : 1. Robert, 
born in New York, -June 11, 1802 ; died in Brooklyn, Long 
Island, September 28, 1803, aged 1 year, 3 months and 17 
days. 2. Robert Hazard, born in Flushing, Long Island, 
July 20, 1804; died at sea, December 24, 1830, after a 
long illness, aged 26 years, 5 months and 4 daj^s, un- 
married. 3. Thomas Hazard, born in New York, June 
21, 1807 ; died January 14, 1876, at Richmond, Va., unmarri- 
ed; buried in Laurel Hill Cemetery, Philadelphia. 4. William, 
born in New York, August 21, 1809 ; married Janette James, 
of Albany, N. Y., and is now residing in New York. 5. An- 
drew Sigourney, born in New York, November 11, 1811 ; 
died in New York, August 11, 1846, aged 34 years and 9 
months, unmarried ; buried in the Friends burial ground, 
Brooklyn, Long Island. 6. Anna Hazard, born in New 
York, October 25, 1813; married Samuel G.Ward, of Boston. 
7. Jacob, Jr., born in New York, May 23, 1816; died 
unmarried in New Orleans, Louisiana, April 27, 1842, 
aged 25 years, 11 months and 4 days ; buried in the 
Protestant Cemetery, New Orleans. 8. Elizabeth Hazard, 
born in New York, July 4, 1817 ; married Baldwin Brower; 
second, Wni. T.Van Zandt; third John J. McCaulis. 9. Sarah, 
born in NewYork, July 23, 1819; married John C. Harrison, 
and, second, Wm. H. Hunt. 10. Abraham, born New York, 


June 3, 1823 ; married, first, Surali Wharton, daughter of 
William Wharton, of Philadelphia, and, second, Katherine, 
daughter of James Crane, of Elizabeth, New Jersey. 11. 
Mary, died in New York, January 9, 1826, aged 2 years, 6 
months and 12 days. 12. John Wells, died in New York, 
December 18, 1825, a few hours after his birth. 

Ann7 — youngest daughter of Thomas Hazard* —married 
Philip Hone, of New York — son of the mayor — , and left 
one daughter, Joanna, who married Charles Kneeland, of 
New York, and left two sons. 

Edward 7 — youngest son of Thomas Hazard^ — died as he 
was entering into manhood, respected and beloved by all 
who knew him. He was a young man of singular amiability 
of disposition and irreproachable character. 

Rowland Hazards (^Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^, Rob. 
ert^, Thomas^), born April 4, 1763 ; removed in eai^y man- 
hood to Charleston, South Carolina, where he married in 
1793, Mary, daughter of Isaac Peace, a wealthy merchant 
and highly respected citizen of that city. Joseph Peace, 
father of Isaac, embaiked at Gravesend, England, for Amer- 
ica, and settled in Pennsylvania, where he became possessed 
of the Brandywine, the Bristol and the Trenton flouring 
mills, together with a very large landed estate in and about 
Bristol and Trenton, including a goodly portion of Penn 
Manor. He died when his two daughters were minors and 
his sons, Joseph and Isaac, in infancy. Through the negli- 
gence of a fox-hunting guardian — an uncle Allen — the es- 
tate was mostl}- dissijjated and alienated, leaving the heirs 
in comparative poverty. One of the daughters married 

-Austin ; the second — Sarah — married Sir Richard 

Chubb, whose gold sleeve-button with coat of arms thereon 
I have in my possession. I knew both these- great-aunts 
in my boyhood. They lived and died in Philadelphia. 
Joseph Peace settled at New Garden, North Carolina, where 
many of his descendants remain and are highly respected. 



Isaac Peace married and first settled in the Island of Bar- 
badoes, where he engaoed in mercantile pursuits. He after- 
wards removed to Charleston, where he followed the 
same business. During the devastating peiiod of the Revo- 
lutionary War, he was again ruined in property, but long- 
before his decease retrieved his circumstances. Finally, in 
his old age, he removed north and settled in Bristol, Bucks 
county, Pennsylvania. He was a man of great strength of 
mind and of sterling integrity. Isaac Peace married Eliza- 
beth Gibson, of Barbadoes, July 12, 1770, and died in Bris- 
tol, Pennsylvania, December 25, 1818, aged 80 years. His 
wife died November 30, 1800, and was buried at Speights 
Town, Barbadoes. Their children were : 1. Joseph, born 
May 10, 1771 ; died May 31, 1826; married Anna Maria 
Rudhall, of Charleston, S. C. Their children were : Eliza- 
beth G. ; Ann Maria ; Rebecca; Sophia; Isaac; Joseph; 
William Rndhall ; Edward ; Carolina ; Mary, and Washing- 
ton. 2. Sarah, born in Charleston, S. C, January 13, 

1774 ; died January 14, 1795. 3. Mary P., born March 6, 

1775 ; married Rowland Hazard. 4. Francis P., born Feb- 
ruary 16, 1776 ; died in infancy. 5. Isaac, born May 9, 
1777 ; died July 16, 1780. 6. Rebecca, born August 22, 
1781 ; married Dr, Nathaniel Cole, March 25, 1807 ; died 
November 13, 1851. Dr. Cole died July 18, 1848. Their 
children were: Elizabeth, born July 9, 1808 ; Sarah P., born 
October 1, 1810 : married Samuel Starr and had children, 
Samuel and William ; Rebecca, born August 10, 1813. Dr. 
Cole, his wife and children, all lived and died in Burlington, 
New Jersey. 

Rowland Hazard^died at Washington Hollow, near Pough- 
keepsie, N. Y., 1835, aged 72. His wife died in Newport, 
R. I., in 1858, aged 78. Their remains are interred in the 
family burying ground at Vaucluse. Rowland engaged 
largely in mercantile pursuits, but was finally ruined through 
the operations of Napoleon's Berlin and Milan decrees, under 
which there were no less than seven ships and other vessels 


confiscated of which his raeicantile firm was sole or part 
owner. He returned to South Kingstown and engaged in the 
manufacture of cotton and wool linsej^s some years pi-evious 
to 1800. When he commenced the manufacturing business, 
the cotton used was brought from Charleston in what were 
called "pockets," containing some six or eight pounds each 
of cotton in the seed. This was picked by hand since my 
remembrance, and in the same manner as the wool was carded 
with hand cards, spun on hand wheels, and woven in hand 

For more than three-quarters of a century, R<:>whxnd Haz- 
ard, his sons, and his grandsons, have persevered in the manu- 
facturing business, pursuing it through all its successive 
changes and improvements, until their extensive manufacto- 
ries at Peace Dale, devoted to the manufacture of worsted 
goods, shawls, and French cassimeres, have reached a point 
of perfection perhaps not surpassed in the world, giving em- 
ployment to four hundred and fifty persons, who, with the 
aid of the wonderfully improved machinery, turn out daily 
as many or more yards of goods than could have been pro- 
duced in the infancy of the manufacture by one hundred 
thousand individuals or more. Nay, not long since I stood 
and observed a strippling spinning in one of these mills on 
te4i highly improved jennies, and estimated statistically, fi'om 
personal knowledge of the facts, that the boy turned off as 
much yarn daily as one hundred women used to spin for me, 
some sixty years ago, on the primitive hand spinning wheels, 
in a full week. Thus, supposing all the hands in the Peace 
Dale mills to be engaged in spinning with the present im- 
proved machinery, they would turn off as much yaim per 
week as two hundred and seventy thousand would have 
done since I commenced business in the same locality. Then, 
a spinner on a hand wheel earned twelve cents per day, only, 
while cotton sheeting was worth sixty cents and more per 
yard. Now, one woman will earn seventy-five cents per 
day, and pay ten cents, only, per yard for cotton sheeting, 


and other manufactured goods in proportion. Then a wo- 
man's work for a full week would buy one and one-quarter 
yards of sheeting ; now, her week's wages will purchase 
forty-five yards, and most other manufactured articles in like 
proportion. This reads like romance, but it is nevertheless 

The children of Rowland^ and Mary Peace Hazard were : 

1. Isaac Peace'^, born in South Kingstown, R. I., January^ 
1794; is now living in Newport, unmarried, aged 85 years. 

2. Thomas R.'', born in South Kingstown, R. I., January 3, 
1797 ; married Frances Minturn, daughter of Jonas Minturn, 
of New York, October 12, 1838. Their children were : (a) 
Mary Robinson^, born in Newport 1839; died 1842. (b) 
Frances Minturn^, born at Vaucluse 1841; died 1877. (c) 
Gertrude Minturn », born at Vaucluse 1843 ; died 1877. (d) 
Anna Peace^, born at Vaucluse 1845; died 1868. (e) Esther 
Robinson^, born at Vaucluse 1848; married Edwin J. Dun- 
ning, (f) Barclay^, born at Vaucluse December 4, 1852. 
[Thomas R. Hazard, the compiler of these tables, has been 
an earnest worker in the cause of what is called "Modern 
Spiritualism," since the year 1856, and whatever may be 
his merits or demerits otherwise, he has no higher ambi- 
tion than that his name should be handed down to the com- 
ing generations associated with this fact alone.] 3. Eliza Gib- 
son'^, born March, 1799, in South Kingstown, R. I., and now 
lives at No. 15 Kay street, Newport, where also dwell her 
brother Isaac and sister Anna. 4. Rowland Gibson", born in 
1801, in South Kingstown, R. I., ; married Caroline, daugh- 
ter of John Newbold, of Bristol, Pennsylvania. Their child- 
ren are: (a) Rowland^, born August 16, 1829; married 
Margaret, daughter of Rev. Anson Rood, of New Haven, 
Conn.; and has children, Rowland G., 2d. 9, Caroline^, Fred- 
erick 9, Helen ^, and Margaret^, (b) John Newbold^, born 
September 11, 1836 : married Augusta Gurloff, of Philadel- 
phia, and has children, Ernest^, Edith^, Robert^, Mary 9, 
and John Gibson 9. 


Rowland G. Hazard is one of the ablest of American 
writers, and has published many volumes and essays of wide- 
acknovAdedged merit. Among others are the following : 
"Language," 120 pages, 1835, second edition 1857; "The 
Adaptation of the Universe to the Cultivation of the Mind," 
1841 ; "-The Philosophical Character of Channing," written 
by request of Channing's friends, and first published in Bos- 
ton soon after Chatining's death ; "The Character and Writ- 
ings of the late Chief Justice Durfee, LL. D., of Rhode 
Island"; "The Duty of Individuals to support Science and 
Literature" ; "Causes of the Decline of Political Morality" ; 
"Public Schools" ; "Intemperance" ; "Freedom of Mind in 
Willing, or Every Being that Wills a Creative First Cause," 
455 pages, published by D. Appleton & Co., 1864 ; "Two 
Letters on Causation and Freedom of Willing, addressed to 
John Stuart Mill," with appendices on "The Existence of 
Matter," and " Our Notions of Infinite Space," 300 pages, 
published by Lee & Shepard Boston, 1869, translated and 
published in Leipsic, Germany, by B. Westermann & Co., 
1875 ; "Our Resources" — treating of the financial and politi- 
cal situation in the United States — London and Amsterdam, 
1864, 35 pages ; "Hours of Labor," published in the North 
American Review, January, 1866 ; "Relations of Railroad 
Corporations to the Public", published in Hunt's Merchants" 
Magazine, December, 1849, 50 pages ; and "Animals not 
Automatic" — a reply to Huxley — published in Popular Sci- 
ence Monthly, February, 1875. 

William R. Hazard^ (Bowland^, Thomas^, Robert^, 
Thomas^, Mobert'^, Thomas^^^ fifth child of Rowland ; of 
Poplar Ridge, New York : born 1803 in South Kingstown ; 
married Mary, daughter of John Wilbur, of Hopkinton, 
R. I., 1828. Their children are : 1. John W. Hazard^, born 
1830 ; married Adelia Hoag, and had children (a) Jarvis^ ; 
(b) Charles M.^ His second wife is Sarah E. Raymond. 2. 
Mary G.,8 born 1833; married Samuel G. Cook 1863. 3. Lydia 


C.8, born 1835; mamed Franklin E. Hoag. 4. Eliza- 
beth 8,born 1837. 5. Rowland^, born 1839; married PhebeAnn 
Moore 1865, and has children: (a) George 9, died 1875, aged 7 
years, (b) William 9. 6. Anna^, born 1841; married Thomas 
Tierney 1867. 7. William W.\ born 1843. 8. Isaac F.\ 
born 1847 ; married Elizabeth Rowland 1871. 

Joseph Peace Hazard^ (Rowland'', Thomas,^ Robert^, 
Thomas^, Bobert'^, Thomas'^), sixth child of Rowland ; born 
February, 1807, at Burlington, N. J. ; now 72 years of age. 
Joseph is one of the most extensive of American travelers, 
and is now absent on an overland journey around the world. 

Isabella Wakefield Hazard^, seventh child of Row- 
landg ; born in Bristol, Pennsylvania, February, 1807 ; died 
1838. Mary Peace Hazard^, eighth child of Rowland^, born 
in Bristol, Pennsylvania, 1814 ; died in Newport 1874 ; buried 
at Vaucluse beside the grave of her sister Isabella. Anna''', 
ninth child of Rowland^, born in South Kingstown, October, 

Jonathan Hazard^ (^Robert^, Thomas^, Robert^, Thom- 
as'^'), second child ; died young. 

Richard HAZARD5(jBo5er^4, Thomas^, Robert,^ Thomas^"), 
third child ; removed to the West in early manhood. He 
was the father of George^, who lived highly respected, near 
Worden's Pond, on a part of the estate that descended from 
his grandfather Robert*. He here died about 1826-7. 

Sarah Hazard^ (Robert^, Thomas^, Robert"^, Thomas'^), 
the only daughter of Robert; married Job Watson. At the 
time of his marriage, Mr. Watson occupied and improved 
the Dyer and Bull estates on Tower Hill, and afterwards re- 
moved to Conanicut, where he became a great land-holder. 
Their children were : 1. Job Watson, married Phebe Wee- 
den, and had children, Daniel W., Elizabeth E., Sally, and 
Phebe. 2. Robert H. Watson, married Catherine Weeden, 
and had children, Isabella, Joseph W., Sarah, Daniel (M. D), 
Hannah, and Robert H. 3. Walter Watson, married Mary 
Carr, and had children, Isabella, Nicholas C, Job, Isabel- 


la, 2d, Thomas Hazard, William M., Elisha, Walter, and 
Johfi' E. 4. Borden Watson, married Isabella Babcock, 
and had children, John IL, Borden, Sarah, Mary, Abijah B., 
Albert, and Job S. 5. John J. Watson, married, first, a 
daughter of Gov. George Brown, and had children, Wil- 
liam R., Henry H., and two daughters. His second wife 
was Isabella Watson. Their children were : Walter S., Job 
H., Isabella, Emil}^ Harriet, and Thomas. 

George Hazard^ (Robert^, Thomas'^ ), second son of Roh- | 
ert; died 1743. His children were: 1. Robert*, "who", says / 
E. R. Potter, "probably died before his father." 2. Caleb*. 
3. George*. 4. Thomas*. 5. Oliver*. 
/C Caleb Hazard* (^G-eorgez, Robert^, Thomas'^'), married 
Abigail, daughter of William Gardiner. Mrs. Hazard sub- 
sequently became the wife of Gov. William Robinson. 
Caleb died Januar^^ 15, 1727, aged 28 years and was buried 
in the family burying ground, situated to the east of tlie old 
post-road, about two miles south and west of Wakefield, R. I., 
on the farm now owned by Mrs. Mary F., the wife of Rev. 
Elisha F.Watson. Judging from the length of his grave,Caleb 
Hazard must have been a man of Herculean stature. The chil- 
dren of Caleb Hazard were : 1. Williams. 2. Dr. Robert^jdied 
February 12, 1771 [^^ee Updike]. 3. Calebs. 
\^ George Hazard'^ (^G-eorge^, Robert^, Thomas^), deputy 
' governor. His children were : 1. Carder^, married Alice, 
daughter, of Col. Thomas Hazard, March 5. 1761. Their 
children were : (a) Georges, doctor; had children : (A) Dr. 
William Henry 7, of Wakefield, R. I.; married a daughter of 
the late Governor Lemuel Arnold. (B) Carder^, died some 
years ago at his residence in Wakefield. (C) Jane 7, married 
Dr. Greene, of East Greenwich. (D) Edward H.'^, attor- 
ney at law. Providence ; owns and occupies the John Bige- 
low Dockray old mansion-house and farm, near Wakefield. 
(E) George ^ (F) Mary H.^, married Rev. James H. Car- 
penter, and has children : Esther B. — a fine writer of both 
prose and verse — , Elizabeth Case — deceased — , James Wil- 



lett, Laura, and Maiy. (G) Laura 7, married Attmore Rob- 
inson—for children, see "Robinson Genealog}.'' (II) Alice^ 
(b) Peter6. (c) Robert^. By his second wife, Carder Haz- 
ard's children were : (d) Thomas C.^, had children : (A) 
Joseph B.7, deceased. (B) A daughter^, married Nathan 
Kenyon. (e) Richard^, had children: (A) Joseph^. (B) 
Daniel '^, who now lives in the old homestead on the farm 
next north of the Dr. George Hazard estate ; a daughter^ 
of his married Jonathan Allen, of South Portsmouth, R. I. 
(C) Joshua'^, (f) Arnold^, ship captain, died in early man- 
hood, (g) Edward^, ship captain ; died in early manhood, 
(h) Alice 6. 2. George 5. 

From a late paper I have cut this slip containing an obitu- 
^ ary of Judge Carder Hazard^: '•'•The Providence Journal 
' Eighty-Five Years Ago. — The sight of a yellow old paper of 
diminutive size, No. 48 of the Providence Gazette and Coun- 
try Journal, bearing date of December 1, 1792, suggests many 
trite but still impressive comparisons between the^customs of 
the old times and the way we live now. * * * A longer 
notice records the death of a member of one of the Narra- 
gansett Families : 'Last Saturday departed this life, at South 
Kingston, in the 59th year of his age. Honorable Carder 
Hazard, Esq., one of the Judges of the Supreme Court of 
this State. In political life he exhibited the honest citizen 
and the upright judge ; subject to Laws, he reverenced them, 
and invested with Power, he executed it without Intrigue, 
and without a view of Self-interest. In social Life, the 
Goodness of his Heart and the Simplicity of his Manners 
were peculiarly agreeable — but death has closed his Labors I 
and the Pity of that Death has evidenced the Innocence of 
his Life. With that of the Public, his particular Friends 
have united their own private Sorrow.' Judge Carder Haz- 
ard was son of George Hazard, Deputy Governor of Rhode 
Island, brother to George Hazard, Mayor of Newport, and 
father of the late Dr. George Hazard, of South Kingstown, 

R. I. E. B. C." 


From Updike's History of the Narragansett Church, page 
321, I extract the following : George Hazard, the son of 
Caleb,7was elected a member of the General Assembly for 
Newport many years. The Newport Mercury contained the 
following obituary notice : 'Died in this town on Friday, 
August 11, 1791, George Hazard, Esq., for many years a re- 
spectable merchant ; for upwards of thirty years a Represen- 
tative from this town in the Legislature ; for twelve years 
Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas for this coun- 
ty ; a member of the convention which adopted the Consti- 
tution of the United States, and formerly mayor of the city 
of Newport.' 

Edward Hazard, the eldest son of Mayor George Hazard, 
married Sarah Cranston, the daughter of the Hon. Thomas 
Orauston, grandson of Gov. Samuel Cranston, in May, 1770, 
and settled on a farm given him by his father in South 
Kingstown, Thomas Cranston Hazard, only son and child 
of Edward, graduated from Rhode Island college in 1792, 
and is now living in Voluntown, Connecticut. Nathaniel 
Hazard, third son of Mayor George, graduated from Rhode 
Island college in 1792. He was a Representative in the 
General Assembly for several years, and was Speaker of the 
House. In 1818 he was elected Representative to Congress, 
He died at Washington in 182 — , and was interred in the 
Congressional burial ground. Nathaniel was the father 
of the late gallant Captain Samuel F. Hazard of the U. S, 
Navy, who married Martha, youngest daughter of Charles 
DeWolf, Esq. Their children were : a daughter who died 
in infancy, and Martha, who married Dr. Sturgis, of New 
York City. 

Thomas H azaud^ {Creorge^, Robert^, Thomas'^), iouvth. 
son ; colonel ; had children : 1. George 5, married Jane 
Tweedy, July 28, 1769. 2. Penelope^, married Judge Wil- 
liam Potter, youngest son of Col. John Potter, November 18, 
1750. 3. Abigail^, married Rev. Samuel Fayerweather. 4. 
Sarah ^, married George Hazard, son of Thomas^. 


Oliver Hazard* (^G-eorge'^, Robert"^, Thomas^'), fifth 
son; his children were: 1. Oliver^. 2. Raymonds. 3. 
Sarah^. 4. Lucretia^. One of his daughters married Free- 
man Perry, grandfather of Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry. 

Stephen Hazard^ (Robert2, Thomas i), thud son; had 
a son, Judge Stephen*, who married Mary Robinson. Their 
son Stephen 5 — called "Long Stephen" — owned and occu- 
pied a large landed estate in Point Judith. He married a 
daughter of Lieutenant Governor Nichols, who built and 
lived in the fine Hunter mansion on the "Point" in New- 
port, as his winter residence, and the house in Middletown 
where Colonel Prescott was captured, as his summer resi- 
dence. The children of Stephen^ and Mary Robinson Haz- 
ard were : 1. Nichols Hassard6,died in Newport, 1848; had 
children : Alice', Mary'^, Phebe'^, Ruth''', Sarahr, Hannah7, 
Nichols*, Edward'^. 2. Jonathan N. Hassard^, married 
Mary Robinson, daughter of Sylvester Robinson ; died in 
the West Indies whilst captain of a ship. His children 
were: James^, Alice^, Stephen'^, Jonathan N.^, Sylvester', 
and Mary^. 

Jonathan N. H ass aud"^ {Jonathan W.^, Stephen^, Stephen^, 
jStephen^, Robert^, Thomas'^'), grandson of "Long Stephen"; 
married Mary, daughter of John Congdon. Their children 
were : 1. Mary Abby^. 2. Sarah C.^, married the late 
Captain Louis Hazard, and has children. 3. John C.^ 4. 
Rowland N.^, married Sarah Lawrence Suydam, of New 
York City. 5. William S.^. 6. Herbert^, married Jennie 
B. Hunter. All four of the above named sons of Jonathan 
N. Hassard are at present highly respected and prosperous 
business men in the city of New York. 

John Hassard^ (^Stephen^, Stephen^, Stephen^, Robert^, 
Thomas^'), son of "Long Stephen " ; was an officer in the 
British Navy, and after the war of 1776 emigrated to Prince 
Edward's Island, where many of his descendants now 


Thomas Hassaud^ (Stephen'^, Stephen^, Robert^, Thomas'^), 
<i son of Judge Stephen ; had a son, Thomas S. Hassard''. 
Judge Stephen Hassard* also left daughters, Mary^, Mar- 
tha^, Elizabeth^, and Sarah^. Many of the descendants of 
Judge Stephen Hassard at the present day write the name 
with a double s, as their ancestors, including the judge, were 
wont to do. 

Robert Hazard^ (Bobert^, Thomas'^), had sons : Geof- 
frey*, '•'called Stout Jeffrey." 2. Robert*, Deputy Govern- 
or of the colony 1750 ; died February 12, 1771. 3. John*. 
4. Jeremiah*, who was, says Potter, "grandfather of Jeffrey 
Hazard^, late Lieutenant Governor [1885]." 

Geoffrey II AZAni)^(Bobert^, Robert^, Thomas^}, inherit- 
ed the northern portion of his father's estate, lying on the 
east side of Rose Hill, R. I. The remains of the cellar of 
his house are still to be seen a little north of the family 
burial ground. It used to be said that "Stout Jeffrey" had 
the strength of six common men. Rowland Hazard^, son of 
Rowland G.'^, has now on his lawn at Peace Dale, R. I., a 
blue-stone weighing over sixteen hundred pounds, that he 
had brought from the Governor Biown farm in Boston 
Neck, once occu|)ied by Stout Jeffrey. Tradition says that 
this stone was lifted and carried several rods by Geoffrey. 

To judge by the length of many of their graves the early 
Hazards must indeed have been a race of giants in compari- 
son with whom their descendants are mere pigmies. My own 
family of five brothers— all now living, and averaging over 
78 years of age — in early manhood averaged fully six feet 
and one inch in height, standing in their stockings, and cer- 
tainly will not require grave-stones to be set more than from 
six to six and one-half feet apart ; whereas, on a visit I late- 
ly made to the old Jeffrey Hazard burial ground, I measured 
five separate graves ranging from seven feet between the 
head and foot stone to seven feet nine inches. 

Stout Jeffrey Hazard* had several sons. One son was 
Jeremiah^. His son wasThomas^, and his son was Arnold'^. 



Arnold Hazard lived on Conanicut Island, Rhode Island^ 
and had children : Lucy^, Jeremiah^, Thomas A.^, Job W.^' 
— who now lives on Conanicut — , Daniel W.W.® Dr. Thom- 
as A. Hazard^, now of Kingston, is probably as good a speci- 
men of his ancestors, in physique, as can be found. He 
stands six feet two inches in his boots, and weighs two hun- 
dred and sixty-five pounds avoirdupois. " 

Hannah^, daughter of Geoffrey Hazard^, married Thom- 
as Champlin, who removed into New York State. From them 
have descended a numerous progeny. 

Some years ago there came to Narragansett from the west- 
ern part of Massachusetts, one of the finest looking men I 
ever saw, whose name was Rodman Hazard, and whose an- 
cestors emigrated from Rhode Island. From his height and 
athletic build of person I think he must have been one of 
Stout Jeffi-ey's lineal descendants. At another time there 
called at my house at Vaucluse, Judge Meech, who was the 
largest farmer, and I think the tallest and most gigantic man 
every way there was at that time in Vermont. His mother 
was a Hazard from Narragansett, and I think must have be- 
longed to the Stout Jeffrey branch of the family. Since the 
above was first printed, I have met a gentleman from Madi- 
son, New York, who told me that the late Paul Hazard, a 
highly respected citizen of that place, was an early settler 
from Rhode Island. Paul left two sons — now living — who 
inherit, in an eminent degree, the sterling qualities and 
strong physique of their father. I think they may have de- 
scended from Stout Jeffrey. I also learn by a letter from 
Mr. Lester Gorton,, of Hancock, Berkshire county, Massa- 
chusetts, that Rodman Hazard mentioned above was an early 
settler in that town ; that be was a son of Henry, whose 
father's name was Thomas ; and that Henry with his broth- 
er Clark came to Hancock from Rhode Island. Rodman's 
children were : Wanton, Rodman, Laura — married a Mr. 
Green and is the mother of four children — , and Eunice, who 


married a Gorton and is the mother of Lester Gorton mention- 
ed before and four other children. The late Thomas T. Haz- 
ard, who represented the town of West Greenwich for a 
great many years in the General Assembly, was probably a 
descendant of Stout Jeffrey. 

Jeremiah Hazard* {Robert,^ Robert'^, Thomas'^), had 
either a son or a grandson named Jeremiah. His sons were : 
John, who lived on Boston Neck near Stewart's snuff mill, 
Robert, and Rowland, by his first wife, and Wilbur, by his 
second wife. Ephraim Hazard *, the father of Robinson 
Hazard^ and grandfather of Louis Hazard^, who is now liv- 
ing on MacSparran Hill in North Kingstown, and Gideon 
Hazard* were brothers of Jeremiah. The children of John, 
by his first wife, were : George, John, Ruth, Sarah, Patience, 
Mary, Abby, Hannah, Jeremiah, and Catheriiie ; by his sec- 
ond wife, Cranston, and Elizabeth. 

Jeremiah Hazard, the son of John, died recently in 
Newport. He was nearly 85 years of age, but up to within a 
short time of his death stood as straight and walked with as 
vigorous and elastic a step as an ordinary boy of twenty. He 
inherited many of the distinguishing traits of the "snip" 
breed of Hazards. His children were : James W., and Har- 
riet, who married George H. Wilson, a master builder and 
highly respected citizen of Newport, Rhode Island. 

George Hazard* (Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^), second 
son ; had children : 1. Benjamin 5. 2. Simeon^. 3. Enochs. 
4. George 5. 5. Thomas G.s. 

Benjamin Hazard^, first son of George*; had children: 
1. Richards, married, on the death of his brother Benjamin, 
her first husband, his cousin Hannah Hazard, a daughter of 
Simeon Hazard. Their children were: (a) Joseph Wan- 
ton 7, married Maiy Potter, of South Kingstown, (b) John, 
(c) Mary, (d) Richard Joseph, (e) Rowland, (f) Abi- 
gail, married Richard Mumford. (g) Mary Ann, married a 
Snow of Providence, (h) Alice, married William Perry. 


Richard^ died, in Newport between 1845 and 1850, aged 102 
years. The mother of the late John D. Dennis, in Broad- 
way, Newport, was a granddaughter of Richard Hazarde. 
2. Benjamin^, married his cousin Hannah Hazard, who after 
his decease married his brother Richard. 3. Wanton «. 

From all I can learn John Hazard^ — called "Wickham 
John" from the fact that his mother's name had been Wick- 
ham — appears to have been a sou of Enoch , or Benjamin^, 
both sons of George Hazard^. John Hazard^ owned and 
occupied, since my remembrance, a large tract of land on 
MacSparran Hill extending from Pettaquamscutt lake on 
the east, to Saucatucket river on the west. He married Sa- 
rah, daughter of Nathan Gardner. Their children were : 1. 
John 7. 2. Nathan G.'^ He married as his second wife, 
Martha Clarke, daughter of Latham and Martha Robinson 
Clarke and sister to Lewis Latham Clarke. John'^ married 

Frances, daughter of Gardiner, a lineal descendant of 

Col. John Gardner, of Boston Neck, and granddaughter of 
George Hazard, first and only mayor of Newport of the olden 
time. Their children were : (a) Martha Clarke^, married 
Elnathan Brown, and, second, Ossimus Stillman. (b) Fran- 
ces Gardiner^, (c) John Alfred^. Nathan G.^ married his 
brother John's widow. Their children were : (a) WUiia n 
R.8, married a daughter of Benjamin Staunton, (b) Sarah 
G.^ (c) Catharine H.^ (d) John^. I was well acquainted 
with Nathan G. Hazard. He was a thorough gentleman of 
the old school, inheriting in that respect the qualities of his 

Simeon U.azab.d& {Gfeorffe^, Thomas'^, Eobert'^,Tho7na8^), 
had children: 1. Geoffrey^, who was the father of the late 
Dr. Jonathan Easton Hazard^, of Portsmouth, R. I., a man 
of the most sterling qualities and a true gentleman. 2. 
Mumforde, married, 1786, Elizabeth, daughter of Christo- 
pher Robinson. 3. Simeon^, whose daughter^ married a 
Mumford and had a son, Richard. 4. George 6. 5. Abi- 
gail 6. 


George S. Hazard^, fourth child of Simeon^, born May 
15, 1773 ; married Content Wilbur ; died November 29, 
1836, aged 63 years, 6 months and 14 days. Mrs. Hazard 
was born October 8, 1782 ; died January 16, 1833, aged 50 
yeai's, 3 months and 8 days. Their children were : 1. Mum- 
ford7. 2. Elizabeth^. 3. Charles Tillinghast^. 4. Arnold 
W.7. 6. Ann Matilda^. 6. William Wilbour^. 7. Harriett 
8. Henry B.". 9. Simeon^. 10. James Lawrence'^. 11. George 

MuMFORD Hazard 7, first child of George S.^,born Februa- 
ry 1, 1802 ; married Sarah Tilley ; died November 13, 1876. 
Their children are : 1. George Mumford^, born March 25, 
1822; married Almira Sweet February 1, 1847. Mrs. Hazard 
was born June 27, 1823. Their children are: (a) Henry Holt^, 
born July 11, 1848 ; died August 27, 1851. (b) Albert 
Armstrong^, born July 25. 1850 ; died March 2, 1852. (c) 
Frank Sweet 9, born February 25, 1852. (d) Herbert Gould 9, 
born November 15, 1853 ; married Fannie Packard, 1878. 

(e) Simeon 9, born January 16, 1856. (f) Mary Frances 9, 
born November 16, 1857 ; died September 1,1858. (g) Benj. 
I.9,born March 11,1860; died August 26, 1860. 2. Charles U.\ 
married Sarah Smith. Their children are : Daniel^, Isaac^, 
Maria^, Henry 9, — deceased — , and Emma^. 3. James T.^, 
born May 2, 1828 ; married Phebe Gould, daughter of Thom- 
as Gould March 10, 1851. Mrs. Gould was born June 8, 
1828. Their children are: (a) Fanny H.9, born May 15, 

1853; married Gardner S. Perry 1876, and has one child. 

(b) Eloise P.^, born June 4, 1858. 4. Benjamin I.s, of 
Georgetown, S. C, born March, 1831 ; married Sarah Ingalls, 
of Taunton, Mass. Their children are : Allen P.9,Walter9, 
Benjamin I., Jr.^, Jonathan Ingalls^, Schuyler^, Lena May^, 

RuthTilleyS, and Hattie W^9. 5. William T.s, of Ran- 
dolph, Mass., born 1834; married Mary Ryan. Their chil- 
dren are : Nellie^, William R.^, and Blanche^. 6. Sarah 
E.8, born 1836. 7. Thomas T.s, of New York, born 1839 ; 
married Margaret Kellogg. Their children are: Leverett 


K.9, Nellie^, Sallie T.9, and Thomas T., Jr.9. 8. Mary S.^, 
born 1842. 

Elizabeth Hazard'^, second child of George S.*^, born 
January 19, 1804 ; married William Wilbour April 15. 1827. 
Their children are : Joseph ^ — deceased — , William Henry s, 
Harriet^, and Caroline^ — deceased. 

Charles Tillinghast Hazard^, third child of George S.^, 
born July 31, 1806 ; married Sarah Cook. Mrs. Hazard was 
born October 6, 1807 ; died January 16, 1874. Their chil- 
dren were : 1. George Sullivan^, born May 18, 1827 ; mar- 
ried Mary Wilson, and had one child, Annie F.^ His second 
wife is Annie Wellman. 2. Charles Godfrey^, born Novem- 
ber 9, 1830 ; married Mary Warner, and has children, Charles 
T.9, and Louie Augustus^. 3. John C.s, born May 16, 1833; 
died July 29, 1835. 4. Lucretia S.s, born August 5, 1835: 
died September 1, 1845. 5. William C.^, born August 16, 
1837; married Mary Peckham. 6. Silas H. 8, born January 
27, 1840 ; married Sallie Burdick, and has one child, Fannie^. 
7. Edward E.8, born April 13, 1843. 8. Charles T.s, born 
December 30, 1845. 

Arnold W. Hazard^, fourth child of George S.^, born 
October 8,1807; married Sarah Ann Stedman March 14, 
1830. Their children are: 1. George A. 8, born August 5, 
1831; married Mary Barber, and has children: Sarah Ellen^, 
William S.9, Elizabeth S.9, and Amelia T." 2. Stephen 
Stedman 8, born February 2, 1833 ; died September 3, 1834. 
3. Sarah Content^, born October 14, 1834 ; married Jethro 
C. Carr December 1, 1852, and had children, George H., 
Florence T., Samuel E.; married, second, George W. San- 
ford and has one child, James Hazard. 4. Mary Elizabeth^, 
born November 19, 1836 ; died October 23, 1842. 5. Har- 
riet A. 8, born June 6, 1838; married Charles F. Palmer, of 
Randolph, Mass., September 18, 1856 ; and has one child, 
Sarah S. 6. James Stedman 8, born January 4, 1841 ; died 
November 4, 1842. 7. James Stedman s, born April 4, 
1843; married, first, Sarah E. Harvey, second, Sarah A. 


Titus. 8. Elizabeth S.s, born October 7, 1845 ; died Sep- 
tember 28, 1846. 9. Simeons, born December 3, 1847 ; died 
January 8, 1848. 

Ann Matilda Hazard^, fifth child of George S.6, born 
September 20, 1808 ; married Stephen M. Stedman, Novem- 
ber B, 1833. 

William Wilbor Hazard^, sixth child of George S^., 
born July 4, 1810 ; married Sarah M. Armstrong, October 
27, 1834 ; died January 11, 1874. Their children are : 1. 
Isabella Donaldson s, married Joseph M. Bokee, of Brook- 
lyn, N. Y., October 6, 1855 ; and has children, Ida Donald- 
son, Margaret Helena, Joseph Alexander, and Archer Haz- 
ard—died October, 1873. 2. Theophilus Dunn^. 3. George 
Armstrong*, married Josephine Augusta, daughter of Thomas 
T. Carr, of Newport, December 18, 1871, and has one child, 
Duncan Armstrong^, born May, 1875. 4. Mary Estelle^. 
5. Helen Bannister*^. 6. Alithea Lenox. 

Harriet Hazard'', seventh child of George Se, born 
January, 23, 1813 ; married George Albert Armstrong No- 
vember 4, 1833. Mr. Armstrong was born September 30, 
1809. Their children are : 1. William Albert, boin Octo- 
ber 11, 1834; married Carrie Lewis November, 1857, and 
has children, Minnie and George A. 2. Harriet Augusta, 
born December 11, 1841 ; died August 16, 1850. 

Henry B. Hazard', eighth ciiild of George S.*^, born 
December 23, 1815; married Eunice G. Wilbur, August 11, 
1840. Mrs. Hazard was born February 16, 1816. Their 
children are: 1. Lebbeus Ensworth^, born July 3, 1841 ; mar- 
ried Amelia J. Ludlum, of New York, August 3, 1865, and 
has one child, Lawrence Wilburs, born October 17, 1874. 
Mrs. Hazard died February 13, 1878, in the 34th year of her 
age. 2. Abby Congdon*, born October 18,1843. 3. Henry 
Bond, Jr.8, born December 26, 1845. 4. Franks, born July 
30, 1848 ; died July 21, 1851. 5. Arthur^, born November 
6,1850. 6. Emmas, born January 18, 1853. 7. Rena^ born 
July 18, 1856. 


Simeon Hazard^, ninth child of George S.e, born Jan- 
uary 7, 1817 ; married Mary Ann Stevens, November 15, 
1838; died August 20, 1855. Their children were : I.Sarah 
W.8, born October 2, 1839 ; married EdwinG. Spooner June 
27, 1864, and has children, Sarah C, born March 12, 1865, 
George S., born January 1, 1869. 2 Elizabeth S.^ born 
October 28, 1841 ; died September 26, 1842. 3. Elizabeth 
S.^born November 13, 1843 ; died May 29, 1846. 4. George 
S.8, born, June 4, 1846 ; married Sarah Amanda Stoddard 
October 20, 1870, and has children: (a) Margie S.^ born 
May 11, 1872. (b) George Ashley 9, born April 12, 1875. 
5. Annie W.s, born June 26, 1849. 6. Willam S.s, born 
November 5, 1853. 

James Lawrence^, tenth child of George S. 6, born Feb- 
ruary 21, 1818 ; married Frances B. Irish 1842. Their child 
is: 1. Martha Simpson'', born September 30, 1843; married 
Eben U. Godbold May 31, 1866, and has children, Edwin 
Joslyn, and Lawrence Hazard. 

George Augustus", eleventh child of George S.^, born 
March 26, 1819 ; married Abby C. Card October 3, 1843, 
and has children : 1. Charlotte Thayer^, married Prof. John 
M. Cross, of Johns Hopkins Universit}, March 27, 1878. 2. 
Caroline Clark 8. 

Abigail Hazard^ (Simeon^, G-eorge^, Thomas^, Robert'^, 
Thomas^), fifth and last chikl of SimeoiiS, was the second 
wife of Robert Rodman, of South Kingstown. Robert Rod- 
mans children — all by his first wife — were : Robert, Sam. 
uel, William, Clark, Thomas, James, and Sarah. Sarah 
married Samuel Curtis, of Peace Dale, one of the truly good 
men that have lived on earth. Robert Rodman, son of Robert, 
married a sister of Thomas S. Hazard, who was the father of 
Augustus Hazard, the great powder manufacturer of En- 
field, Connecticut, who supplied the government with most 
of that material of war used during the late dreadful frater- 
nal strife. A daughter of Augustus married Governor Bul- 
lock, of Massachusetts. Robert Rodman the second was the 


father of Samuel, whose son, Gen. Isaac P. Rodman, was 
killed at Antietam,whilst his younger brother, Capt. Rowland 
G. Rodman, was shot through the shoulder with a musket bul- 
let at the Fredericksburg slaughter. Daniel Rodman, who 
owns the manufactory and a large estate at Mooresfield, in 
South Kingstown, on which he now resides, and Robert Rod- 
man, who owns the manufactor}^ at Wakefield and several 
other large establishments in North Kingstown, were sons of 
Olark Rodman, son of the first Robert. 

Geokge H az ard 5 ((rgor^e 4 .Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^), 
born March 3, 1727 ; married Sarah Hazard, third daughter 
of Colonel Thomas Hazard. [See Updike.] George owned 
and occupied the ''Little Neck farm " in Point Judith, sit- 
uated south of Boston Neck on the Pettaquamscutt river. 
He was the father of Thomas H. Hazard^, who was born 
March 3, 1765. 

Thomas H. Hazards (^George^, G-eorge^, Thomas^, Rob- 
ert^, Thomas^'), married Abigail, youngest daughter of Syl- 
vester Robinson. Their children were: 1. Sylvester R.', born 
March 3, 1791 ; married Hannah, daughter of Stephen Cong- 
don, of South Kingstown ; died in Newport September 16, 
1875. Their children were : (a) Christopher C. G.^ born 
March 3, 1818 ; died in infancy, (b) Christopher Grant 
Champlin**. Sylvester married as his second wife Gulielma 
M., daughter of Caleb and Waite Babcock. Their children 
was:(c)Abby K.s, married William Atmore Whaley, of 
Newport, R. I. Sylvester R. married as his third wife Abby 
C, daughter of Thomas and Abby Clarke, of Philadelphia, 
and widow of Mr. Francisco. Sylvester R. Hazard was a 
tall, strong and a good man. 2. Dr. Rowland Robinson^, 
second son of Thomas H.^, married Anna, daughter of Gov- 
ernor Charles Collins. He died in Newport, September 21, 
1874, aged 82 years. He was a gentleman of refined breed- 
ing and highly respected. 3. Sally ^ married George Cong- 
don, of Point Judith. 4. George R.^. 


George R. Hazard 7, third son of Thomas H6,maiTied Ann 
Barnet, an English lady. Their children were: 1. Victorias, 
2. Oliver Perrys. 3. Rowland R.^ married Margaret Rhodes, 
4. Louis L.", married Sarah C, daughter ot Jonathan N. 
Hazard, and had children : (a) Ada ^. (b) Helen 9. (c) 
George R. 9 (d) Sarah C. 9 (e) Louise Holyoke'. (f) Jane 
Hunter^. In February, 1876, Captain Hazard sailed from 
Calcutta, Lidia, for New York, in command of the fine ship 
Radiant, owned by Thayer & Lincoln, of Boston, and no 
tidings of the vessel, crew or passengers have ever been re- 
ceived. The voyage was begun under the most favorable 
auspices, and the sad fate which awaited the ship, was en- 
tirely unforeseen. 5. Alice^ married Joseph Babcock, and 
has children, Thomas, and Abby. 6. Abby ^. 7. Mary Ann®, 
married Thomas G. ,son of Thomas G. Hazard, of Newport; 
had children, Thomas, and Mary Anna. 

A most extraordinary succession of coincidences or freaks 
of nature is associated with this branch of the Hazard fami- 
ly, and until within a few years this has been commemorated 
by an annual anniversary held by the family on the third 
day of March for more than three-quarters of a century. I 
extract from the printed copy : "George Hazard, son of 
George, was born in South Kingstown, R. L, March 3, 1727. 
Thomas H. Hazard, eldest son of George, the son of George- 
was born in South Kingstown, March 8, 1775. Sylvester R. 
Hazard, eldest son of Thomas H., was born in South Kings- 
town March 3, 1793. Christopher G. Hazard, eldest son of 
Sylvester R., who died in infancy, was born in Newport, 
March 3, 1818." Sylvester R. used to speak of remembering 
being present at one of these anniversaries more than seven- 
ty years ago, when Thomas B. Hazard, of South Kingstown 
— called "Nailor Tom" — , proposed this toast : "Here is 

'Health to the sick, 

Honor to the brave, 
Success to the lover, 

And freedom to the slave.' " 


Enoch Hazard^ (^G-eorge^^ Thomas^, Rohert%, Thomasi'), 
lived on the farm in Boston Neck now owned b}^ J. M. Pot- 
ter, and had children: Enoch^, and two daughters^, one of 
whom married Jeremiah Niles Potter, the maternal grand- 
father of Jeremiah P. Robinson, of New York. 

Thomas G. Hazard'^ {George^, Tho7nas^, Robert^, Tho^n- 
asi), yonngest son of George ; married Mary, daughter of 
Jonathan Easton. Thomas G. was but four years old 
when his father died, and had nephews older than himself. 
His patrimony fell into the hands of lawyers, but his sister 
Mary — called "Molly " — , seeing that they would plunder 
her little brother of his estate, went into court and contend- 
ed successfully for his rights in her own person. Molly was 
a heroine of no ordinary stamp, and made several journeys 
to and from Philadelphia on horseback. More than one of 
Thomas G. Hazard's female descendants inherited her spirit in 
an eminent degree. The children of Thomas G.6,son of Thom- 
as G.^ were : 1. John Alfreds 2. William^. S.Thomas 
G.'. 4. MaryE.7. 5. George Borden^. 6. Enoch^. 7. 
Ruth7, married Luther Bateman. 8. Benjamin?. 9. Isaac ^. 
Benjamin R az ab.d f {7^kmms-€r\^, ThojnasG.^, G-eor^e^, 
Thomas'^ .Robert"^ ,T1iomas^),hovn September 9,1774; married 
Harriet Lyman October 28, 1807 ; died March 10, 1841. 
Mrs. Hazard was born March 6, 1784 ; died February 23, 
1875. Their children were: 1. Emily", born October 16, 
1808. 2. Peyton Randolph% born April 9,1810; died in 
St. Louis July 2, 1849. 3. Harriet^ born March 26, 1812 ; 
married Rev. Charles T. Brooks October 18, 1837. Their 
children are : (a) Charles, born July 24, 1830 ; married, and 
has had four children, two of whom are living, (h) Har- 
riet Lyman, born July 10, 1841 ; married George Stevens, 
of Haverhill, Mass., and has. four children, (c) Jonathan 
Mason, born September 12, 1844 ; died March, 1863. (d) 
Mary Elizabeth, born April 6, 1847 ; married Lieutenant 
Washburn Maynard, U. S. Navy, and has two sons, (e) 

fi^. eu7.....i.cJ.^^^ /^/uyC^-^LJ^^jui^^ '^^'M- ^^^*^ irSlxl^'K 

gc5^^=u — ^a-Lu^ X/s-^**^. ^r^i^^ii^ Q^.^^J\^i*^^'^ 


Peyton H., born September 26, 1850 ; married and has one 
child. 4. Marj^ Wanton s, born December 14,1813; died 
April 2, 1814. 5. Mary Wanton », born March 5, 1816. 6. 
Margaret Lyman 8, born April 8, 1817; married General 
Isaac Ingalls Stevens September 8, 1841. General Stevens 
was shot through the head with a musket ball, and instant- 
ly killed during the late civil war. Their children are : (a) 
Hazard, born June 9, 1842. He was more than once pro- 
moted during the war of the Rebellion, before he was twenty 
years of age, for his bravei-y and good conduct, (b) Julia 
Virginia, born June 27, 1844; died in Bucksport, Me. (c) 
Susan, born November 20, 1846 ; married Captain Eskridge, 
U. S. Army, and has five children, (d) Gertrude Maud, 
born April 29, 1850. (e) Kate, born November 28, 1852. 
7. Nancy ^, born June 4, 1819; married John Alfred Hazard, 
son of Dr. Enoch, June 11, 1855 ; had one child, Nicholas 
Easton, born October 14, 1856 ; died May 18, 1874, aged 17 
years. 8. Daniel L.^, born July 19, 1821 ; married Delia 
Louisa Colton, of Philadelphia, May 20, 1869, and has chil- 
dren : (a) Emily B. 9, born October 20, 1870. (b) Peyton 
Randolph 9, born April 13, 1873. 9. Thomas G.^, born 
Man-ch 13, 1824; married Mary King Brooks, sister of Rev. 
C. T. Brooks, December 8, 1858. Thomas G. owns and oc- 
cupies the farm in Narragansett that has been in the family 
since it was purchased by Thomas Hazard 3, the son of Rob- 
ert^, the son of Thomas i. The children of Thomas G.^, and 
Mary King Hazard are : (a) Mary King^ — called ''Molly" — , 
born February 20, 1860; died January 2, 1874; a child of 
great promise, (b) Thomas G.^, born July 20, 1862. (c) 
Daniel L.9, born August 26, 1865. 

The following just tribute to the memory of Benjamin 
Hazard®, son of Thomas G.^, is from the pen of Hon. William 
Hunter,formerly United States minister at the Court of Brazil: 
"There is one individual belonging to this numerous, wide- 
spread and highly respectable race,who is deserving of particu- 
lar notice and regard. We refer to the late Hon. Benjamin 


Hazard. His portrait has already been sketched by the 
skillful hand of Professor Goddard. [See 'Address to the 
People of Rhode Island,' etc., page 62.] Mr. Goddard's re- 
marks need no correction, and but little of addition. 'The 
ancient constitution of Rhode Island, formed out of the 
provisions of the admiral charter, was the most democratic 
perhaps that ever existed. It required a semi-annual elec- 
tion of Repiesentatives to the General Assembly. Mr. Haz- 
ard was a representative from the town of Newport in the 
General Assembly for thirty-one years, and of course was 
subject to the ordeal of sixty-two popular elections' — a 
singular proof of the enlightened stability of his constitu- 
ents, of his general high desert, and his peculiar fitness for 
this important office. This fact independent of all others en- 
titles him to claim rank as a distinguished man, and, as it were, 
demonstrates the possession of those impressive and useful 
qualities, whose combination renders character at once emi- 
nent and enduring. Mr. Hazard's course of reading and 
study operating upon a mind of genuine native strength 
and confirming and justifying a native sturdiness of 
will — the germ and guaranty of greatness — gave to all his 
literary efforts and political proceedings an air and cast of 
originality. He read and dwelt upon such books as Rabe- 
lais, Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, Hobbes' Leviathan, 
Swift's Gulliver, Berkeley's Querist, and latterly, the dramas 
of Shakespeare and the Romances of Sir Walter Scott. In 
the middle and latter periods of his professional career, he 
was employed in most of the important law suits of the day 
in the courts both of the State, and of the United States. 
In politics, though his agency in the conflict of parties, if 
examined in the nicety of details, might betray some seem- 
ing inconsistencies, he was in the main true to himself and 
the system of conservatism. 

"His legislative reports on banks, currency, etc., and on 
the extension of suffrage, are marked by sterling thoughts 
and true and profound principles. In his style as may have 


been anticipated from what has been here said, there was 
nothing gaudy or flashy ; he aimed at and hit the mark of 
a plain, pure and Anglo-Saxon diction. He disdained the 
ordinary garden flowers, and the glittering, though far fropi 
precious, stones of the surface, to refresh and surprise us oc- 
casionally with flowers 'of native hue serene,' discovered by 
explorations in the depths of thought and meditation." 

Benjamin Hazard 4 (^Aomas 3^ Bobert^, Thomas^), lourth 
son of Thomas Hazard ^ ; born 1701; married a Miss Red- 
wood, of Newport. Their children were: 1. Jonathan^ — 
called '"Beau Jonathan" because of his politeness and nicety 
in dress. 2. Thomas B.^ — called "Nailor Tom" — , died in 
South Kingstown 1845, aged 90 years. He married a sister 
of Robert Knowles, who owned and occupied what is called 
"Sot's Hole farm" in South Kingstown. Their children 
were : (a) Benjamin^, married a Miss Carr for his first wife 
and had children, Sarah '^ — married Dr. Amos Wilbur — and 
Hannah^, who died in early maidenhood, (b) Thomas B.^, 
married Ruth Carpenter and had children, Peter^ and sev- 
eral other sons and daughters. Thomas B. Hazard^ was a 
man of intelligence, highly gifted with conversational pow- 
ers, and of inexhaustible anecdote. 3. Mehitable^. 4. 
Benjamin^, died on board the Jersey prison-ship. 

Stephen Hazard* {Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^), fifth 
son of Thomas ; had childien, Stephen Fones Hazard^ and 

Jonathan J. Hazard* {Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas^), 
sixth son of Thomas, in point of force of character and 
general ability,, was second to none of the remarkable sons 
of Thomas Hazard. In speaking of him, Updike says, page 
328-29, "Jonathan J. Hazard was a descendant in the fourth 
degree from the first settler. He took an early and decided 
stand in favor of liberty in the Revolutionary struggle. In 
1776, he appeared in the General Assembly as a representa- 
tive from Charlestown, and was elected paymaster of the 
continental battalion, 1777, and joined the army in New Jer- 


sey. Ill 1778, he was re-elected member of the General As- 
sembly and constituted one of the council of war. He con- 
tinued a member of the House most of the time during the 
Revolution. In 1787, he was elected by the people a delegate 
to the Confederated Congress. In 1788, he was re-elected 
and attended the old Congress as a delegate from this State. 

"■Mr. Hazard was a leader of the Anti-Federalist party, 
and a fiery opponent of the adoption of the Federal Consti- 
tution. As a delegate to the convention assembled at South 
Kingstwon, in March, 1790, to take into consideration the 
adoption of that instrument, he successfully resisted the 
measure and upon an informal vote, it was ascertained that 
there was a majority of seventeen against its adoption. 
Upon this event, the popular party chaired Mr. Hazard as 
their leader." It seemed that foi-some cause Mr. Hazard, 
suspected of political aspirations, changed his views, and on 
his forbearing longer to oppose the measure, '' the constitu- 
tion was adopted by a bare majority of one." 

"Mr. Hazard," says Updike, '"was well formed, sturdy in 
body and mind, with a fine phrenological development of 
head. He was a natural orator, with a ready command of 
language, subtle and ingenious in debate. He successfully 
contended against Merchant, Bradford, and Welcome Ar- 
nold, the debaters of the House at that period. He was for 
a long lime the idol of the country interests, manager of 
the State, leader of the legislature, in fact, the political dic- 
tator of Rhode Island ; but his course in the constitutional 
convention was the cause of his political ruin. It was a 
Wolsey's fall, to rise no more. The late Hon. Elisha R. 
Potter and the late Benjamin Hazard, who knew Mr. Jona- 
than J. Hazard,in the zenith of his political influence, always 
spoke of him as a man of great natural power and sagacity. 
He moved to New York in the latter part of his life, pur- 
chased a valuable estate, and settled his children there. He 
occasionall}^ visited Rhode Island. He died at an advanced 


Thomas Hazaed* {Thomas^, Robert^, Thomas'^'), was 
the seventh and last of Thomas Hazard's remarkable sons. 
He was an eminent and successful merchant of Newport, 
and in 1760 presented to the government a ship of war that 
he had built and equipped at his own expense. In the Rev- 
olution he adhered to the Bi'itish government and fled the 
country. His great estate was confiscated and after the war 
he settled with most of his children at St. John, New Bruns- 
wick, where he died in 1804. His son Jonathan^— by his 
first wife, who was a Bowdoin — remained in Rhode Island, 
and had children : 1. George^, of Mumford Mill; had chil- 
dren, George L.^, Hannah, Mary, and others. 2. Samuel^, 
died in South Kingstown, and had children, Thomas E.'^, 
Jonathan, Mary, Esther, Wanton Wilbour, William A., and 
Job — killed in the battle at Kingston, North Carolina, during 
the late war. 3. Bowdoin^, had children, Arnold^, Alfred, 
William R., John L., Nathaniel, Isaac, and Edward. 

The late Willard Hazard, who died not many years since, 
was! also a son of the grandson of Virginia Thomas Hazard. 

Since the genealogies have been in piess in book form I 
have received from a descendant of Thomas A. Hazard, the 
following table, which I here insert, supposing him to have 
been a descendant of "Virginia Tom Hazard", though not 
sure of the fact: 

Thomas A- Hazard, married Saiah Hazard, daughter of 
Robert Hazard : died 1862, aged 68 years. Their children 
weitj : Thomas G., married Sarah Kenyon, and had one child, 
Saiah. 2. Hannah, married Stephen Barrow. 3. Sarah, mar- 
ried Benjamin Carpenter; died 1876, aged 62 years. Their 
children were : Alice S., Thomas A., Wanton R., George A., 
Benjamin S., Susan A., Sarah E., and Elisha E. 4. Wanton 
R., married Miss Munroe, and has one daughter. 5. George 
Walter, died 1879, aged 59 years ; married Susan Arnold. 
Their children were : Susan, Nettie, Annie, and Sarah. 
6. Albert Arnold, died November 5, 1868, aged 78 years. 
Dr. A. A. Hazard established and was chief physician of the 


first hospital instituted in the city of Sacramento. 7. Re- 
becca A., married Stanley W. Webb ; died 1862, aged 37 
years. Their children were : Wanton S., and Joel A. 8. 
Susan A., died 1877, aged 48 years. 9. Laura E., died 1863, 
aged 28 years. The sisters of Thomas A., George Bowdoin 
and Samuel Hazard, were : Patience, married Elam Hollo- 
way ; Abby, married William H. Nye ; Esthei', married Rob- 
ert Champlin; nnd Ann, married William T. Gardner. 

" Thomas Hazard ['Virginia Tom']," says Updike, page 
326, "was a descendant in the fourth degree from the com- 
mon ancestor. He was a merchant in Newport for many 
years and acquiied a large estate. His first wife was a Bow- 
doin, a branch of the Boston family ; his second wife was 
Eunice Rhodes, of Pawtuxet, Rhode Island. In the Revo- 
lution, Mr. Hazard adhered to the cause of the Crown, fled 
to the enemy, and his estates were seized and subsequently 
confiscated. * * After the war Mr. Hazard i-eturned to 
this State, and the General Assembly, through the influence 
of his brother, Jonathan J. Hazard, a leading Whig, were in- 
clined to restore his estates, if a satisfactory submission 
should be made. This he indignantly refused, and the con- 
fiscation was consummated." Virginia Tom was beyond a 
doubt one of the true "snip" breed. 

Updike continues, "In 1785. Mr. Hazard repaired to 
England, and the British grovernment, for his loyalty, his 
sacrifices, and sufferings, besides other i-emunerations, 
granted him a large tract of land at St. John. In 1786, he 
embarked for his new residence, with his wife, and all his 
children, except those who had previously married and set- 
tled in Rhode Island." One of Mr. Hazard's daughters 
married Walter Watson, whose daughter Isabella, married 
John J. Watson, the son of the first Job Watson. Walter's 
only remaining daughter, Abigail, mai-ried Wilkins Updike. 

The following detached memoranda may be of some in- 
terest to readers interested in the antecedents of the Haz- 


jird family : ''Jeffrey Hazard, of Exeter, was a descendant 
from Thomas, the common ancestor, in the sixth degree. 
He was for many years representative in the General As- 
sembly, Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas, Judge 
of the Supreme Court, and Lieutenant Governor of the 
State." — Updike's History. "Four of the Hazard family 
have been lieutenant governors of Riiode Island." — Ibid. 
" The late Commodore Oliver H. Perry was a descendant of 
Thomas Hazard, the first settler, in the sixth degree. Ray- 
mond, father of t:he commodore, was the son of Judge Free- 
man Perry, who married the daughter of Oliver Hazard, of 
South Kingstown. The commodore was named after his 
maternal grandfather, Oliver Hazard." — Ihid. "Mr. Hazard, 
of Philadelphia, together with Dr. Franklin, petitioned the 
legislature of Pennsylvania to found the great insane asylum, 
at the corner of Ninth and Spruce streets, Philadelphia, and 
was a manager of the same for many years." — Old Philadel- 
phia Paper. " Hazard was founder ot the anthracite coal 
trade in Pennsylvania. Some coal company published a 
memorial four years ago concerning him." 

A number of the "Book of Beauty " in Redwood Libra- 
ry, Newport, contains this sentence : "-Catharine Van Court- 
land Field. In 1838, she married Mr. Benjamin Hazard 
Field, a descendant of Sir John Field, the astronomer. He 
is owner of a tract of land in Westchester county. New 
York, which has been kept in the family about two hundred 
and fifty years." 

E. R. Potter, in his Early History of Narragansett, page 
312, says: "It is traditionary in the family that a brother 
[perhaps, it should be nephew] of the first Thomas Hazard 
came over with him, and was the ancestor of the New York 
and South Carolina Hazards." I have always heard that it 
was a brother's son who came over with Thomas Hazard. 

I remember meeting several years ago in New York, the 
captain of a ship by the name of Hazard — a tall, athletic, 


fine looking man — , who told me that he was frOni the 
southerly and easterly shore of Long Island where there were 
several families of the name who did not trace their descent 
to the Rhode Island Hazards. These may have been de- 
scended from the first South Carolina settler — whether a 
brother or brother's son of the first Thomas being immaterial. 

As before stated, there is a tradition in the family that the 
first Thomas Hazard wiio came to America stopped for a 
time in New Jersey. My sister Eliza Hazard informs me 
that she has heard it stated — she thinks by Thomas B. 
Hazard, called " Nailor Tom" — that Thomas the first came 
to Rhode Island from Long Island. It may be that his 
nephew, who probably left England with his uncle, remain- 
ed on- Long Island, and that from this place his descendants 
branched off to Carolina or Georgia. 

From copies of Colonial Records furnished me by Miss 
Emily Hazard, I quote : 

^ 1671. Robert Hazard, Juror for Portsmouth ; also Com- 

" 1684. Thomas Hazard, of Portsmouth, admitted Free- 
man of the Colony." 

'• 1696. George Hazard, Stephen Hazard, Robert Hazard, 
admitted Freemen." 

" 1712. Robert Hazard, of Kingstown, also George and 
Stephen Hazard, Deputies." 

" 1717. Thomas Hazard, Stephen Hazard, sons of Thomas, 
of Kingstown, admitted Freemen." 

" 1720. Lieutenant Colonel George Hazard chosen 
Lieutenant Colonel of the Regiment on the Mainland." 

"1723. George Hazard, Jr., Benjamin Hazard, Robert 
Hazard, Jeffrey Hazard, George Hazard — son of Thomas — , 
admitted Freemen at Kingstown." 

" 1730. Thomas Hazard, Freeman." 

" 1750. Gideon Wanton, Governor ; Robert Hazard, Dep- 
uty Governor." 


" 1760. Thomas Hazard, of Newport, equipped a ship of 

" 1775. Colonel Thomas Hazard, Nicholas Easton, As- 
sistants [of the governor]." 

From Updike's History of the Narragansett Church, page 
247, I quote : " November 7, 1752, Dr. MacSparran at the 
house of Col. Thomas Hazard, in Boston Neck, married 
George Hazard — son of George, the son of old Thomas 
Hazard — to Sarah Hazard, the third daughter of said Colonel 

"'On the third Sunday of April, 1752, being the 19th day 
of said month, Robert Hazard, commonly called Dr. Hazard, 
was married to Elizabeth Hazard, daughter of Robert Hazard, 
of Point Judith, deceased, at the house of his mother, Esther 
Hazard, and Col. Joseph Hazard, her son, by the Rev. Dr. 
MacSparran.' — Narragansett Church Record. 

" Robert Hazard was educated a physician, by his uncle, 
Dr. Sylvester Gardiner, of Boston. He settled in South 
Kingstown, and married Elizabeth, the daughter of Gov. 
Robert Hazard, of Point Judith, who was Lieut. Governor of 
the State, in 1750. He was a popular physician, and died 
in Narragansett, February 12, 1771. 

"Esther, the widow of Governor Hazard, was an extraordi- 
nary woman, portly and masculine. She was styled Qaeen 
Esther and when mounted on her high-spirited Narragansett 
pacer, proudly traveling through the Narragansett country, 
the people would almost pay her homage. Colonel Joseph 
Hazard, her son, inhei-ite.d all the lofty firmness, the unwaver- 
ing perseverance, and sterling mind of the mother. He was 
elected to many important offices by the people, and sustain- 
ed them with honor. Although a determined partisan, he 
never permitted his political attachments- to sway him from 
the principles of right. His motto was ' to do right, and let 
consequences take care of themselves.' He was on the bench 
of the Supreme Court of the State, when the General As- 
sembly enacted the celebrated ' Paper Money Law' of 1786, 


and was one of the paper money party. As the party put 
the judges into office, it was expected that the judges would 
support the party. But when the question of the constitu- 
tionality of those laws came before the court for decision in the 
case of Trevettys. Weeden, in which cause General Varnum 
made his great and eloquent effort, this court stood firm in 
the defence of the cause of law in their country, and declared 
the paper money tender law unconstitntional and void. 

" The fiery partisans of the law in the General Assembly 
ordered the court to be arraigned before them for a contempt 
of legislative power, and they were required to give their 
respective reasons for overthrowing the laws of the legisla- 
ture that had created them. This novel procedure in judi- 
cial history, Judge Hazard met with firmness ; and when 
called on, unmoved, rose and said: 'It gives me pain, that 
the conduct of the court seems to have met with displeasure 
of the Administration, but their obligations were of too 
sacred a nature for them to aim at pleasing, but in the line 
of their duty. It is well known that my sentimenbs have 
fully accorded with the general system of the legislature in 
emitting the paper money currency. But I never did, and 
never will, depart from the character of an honest man, to 
support any measures however agreeable in themselves. If 
there could have been any prepossession in my mind, it must 
have been in favor of the act of the General Assembly ; but 
it is not possible to resist the force of conviction. The 
opinion I gave on the trial was dictated by the energy of 
truth. I thought I was right. I still think so. But be it 
as it may, we derive our understandings from God, and to 
him alone are we accountable for our judgment.' 

'•'■ This was an instance where the heroic firmness of a few 
men saved the State." Benjamin Hazard, of Charlestown, 
and Robert Hazard, also of Charlestown, called " Cold Brook 
Robert," were sons of Judge Hazard. The latter especially 
inherited, as Updike observes, " all the firm traits of charac- 
ter of the grandmother and father." 


I further quote from Updike : " 'March 5,1771, Mr. Fayer- 
weather married Mr. Carder Hazard to Miss Alice Hazard, 
daughter of Col. Thomas Hazard, of South Kingstowu.' 

"' July 28, 1769, on Friday evening Mr. Fayerweather 
married his brothei-in-law, George Hazard, Esq., to Miss Jane 
Tweedy, at the parsonage house, Narragaiisett.' 

" 'On the 12th of Februaiy, 1771, Dr. Robert Hazard was 
buried, having a long and lingering illness. A considerable 
assembly present, and a funeral sermon preached, and on 
Sunday, the 24th, preached at the house of mourning of the 
late Dr. Hazaid, on mortality, a large congregation present. 
The Hon. James Honey man was present, who came from 
Little Rest — now Kingston -, where the court had been 
sitting the whole week.' — Narragansett Ohurch Record^ 

Before closing, I will remark that there appears to be much 
uncertainty as regards the proper wa}' of spelling the name 
of Hazard. In a recent cursory examination of the ancient 
records of Kingstown, now in the office of the present town 
clerk of South Kingstown — Mr. John G. Perry — , I found 
that for about one liundred years including parts of the 
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries there were on the 
books no less than four hundred and seventy-nine land con- 
veyances to and from the family of Hazards, and so far as I 
then examined the name was invariably spelled " Hassard." 
Since then I have been favored with a note from Mr. Perry 
in which he writes : " The name of Hassard, spelled ' Haz- 
ard,' fiist occurs on the land records of this town, in a deed 
from Thomas Calverwell to ' George Hazard,' dated June 6, 
1723. The next is in a deed from George 'Hazzard' to 
Thomas ' Hazard,' dated January 8, 1725. The name is 
spelled with two «'« in the first instance and one in the lat- 
ter." It would appear by this that the first Hazards who 
came to Narragansett spelled their name as the English 
Hazards now do and did at the period the first settlers emi- 
grated to America. 

I have heard that, though spelled with a double s, the 


name is pronounced in England to this day as if spelled with 
z. It is said there are many of the name in France, and it 
would seem, by an anecdote I have heard concerning a street 
in the central part of Paris, that the two different modes of 
spelling prevail the same there as iii America. I have more 
than once noticed a placaid on one end of this street spelled 
" Hazard" and have heard that, with that nice observance of 
proprieties so characteiistic of the French people, the name 
is placarded on the other etid of the street *' Hassard." In 
French I think the accent is placed on the last syllable. 
Some years ago I was introduced to the lady of the French 
Minister at Washington, and was a little surprised on being 
announced as " Monsieur Ha-2ar(i." I am half inclined to 
think that notwithstanding what Mr. Short says to the 
contrary in his history. Hazard or Hassard was the actual 
family name of the fiist immigrant to England and that it 
might have been suppressed for a while in those troublous 
times, for political or piudential reasons, and afterwards re- 

In an '' Etymological Dictionary of Family and Christian 
Names," etc, by William Arthur, M. A., published by Shel- 
don, Blakeman & Co., New York, 1857, the following item 
occurs under the heading ''Hazard :'' " Hazard {B\\). From 
ard^ nature, and has, of high disposition, proud, indepen- 

My father used to say twenty or more years before Mr. 
Short's history of the family was printed that the Hazards 
came from Pictou — as we remember the pronunciation — , and 
singularly enough on turning recently to a gazetteer, I find 
" Poiter" mentioned as a former province of French now di- 
vided among the departments of Vienne, Dux, Sevres, 
Vendee, Indre-et-Loire, and Charante, the last named depart- 
ment being that from which, by the English historian's 
account, the family actually emigrated in the eleventh cen- 
tury. Probably we misunderstood our father's pronuncia- 
tion of the name. My sister Eliza writes me that some years 


ago whilst she was visiting my famil}- at Vaucluse, a French- 
man came to the house to tune a piano, who told her there 
'Were a good many families of our name living in Marseilles 
and its vicinity in France, that they were merchants and 
owners of vine} ards, but wei'e people who held rank with 
the first in the community. This Frenchman had the bear- 
ing and manners of a gentleman. On looking at a portrait 
of Napoleon the First that hung in the library, he remarked 
that he had seen him at his father's, who was a commissary 
of the army. 

My sister writes farther that she once went into a French 
jeweler's shop in Philadelphia and on giving her name, he 
told her there were many of her name where he came from 
in France. She also writes me that a Mr. Hazard who kept 
a druggist's store in Chestnut street, Philadelphia, wore a 
gold vignette — an anchor boine upon waves, — on his watch- 
chain, which he said was the crest of a Hazard coat of arms. 

Whichever may be the true way of spelling the name, it 
is certain that most or all of the Narragansett Hazards spell- 
ed their name, for half a century or more afte)' they settled 
in Rhode Island, with a double s, or with an s and a z, thus; 
Haszard. In looking through the colonial records I find the 
name occurs very often, perhaps two or three hundred times 
in all. Up to the close of the Revolutionary war or a little 
later — say, 1784 — , the name is spelled three different ways, 
Haszard, Hassai-d and Hazard, generally like the first. In 
the tenth volume running from 1784 to 1792, the name is 
uniformly spelled Hazard. Without an exception, wherever 
it occurs, it is spelled in this way, including ten different 
members of the family— Cardei-, Eunice, George, Godfrey, 
Jonathan J., Jonathan, Jr., of Charlestown, Jonathan, Joseph, 
Thomas G., and Thomas. That some of the English Hazards 
still continue to spell the name with a z, as in the twelfth 
century, is also probable, as I I'emember seeing, less than 
forty years ago, a grocer's sign in Jermain street, London, 
with the name " Hazard" in large letters, and saw also 


" Thomas Hazard" scratched with a diamond on a pane of 
glass in the window of a hotel in Manchester. 

Some forty years ago I used sometimes to meet " Thomas 
Hassard," an architect and master railroad bridge builder, 
who strikingly resembled in his features and person many of 
the Narragansett Hazards. He came from Ireland, married 
a lady of the General Nathaniel Greene family and settled 
in this country. His son, John R. G. Hassard, a man of 
education and fine talents, is now attached to the editorial 
corps of the New York Tribune. I have learned from per- 
sonal observation and other sources, that there is at this day 
a striking resemblance between the Irish, Rhode Island and 
southern branches of the Hassard family, who, it is believed, 
all descended from the " Nottingham Hassards." 

Since these papers have been printed in the Newport Mer- 
cury and Narragansett Times, I have received a letter from 
my brother, Joseph P. Hazard, dated " Zurich, Switzerland* 
May 30, 1878," in which he writes : " I met a Mr. Hazard at 
Lucerne the other day. He spells his name as we do — 
Hazard. He was born near Norwich in Norfolk county. He 
now lives in Nottingham. He is remarkably handsome, stands 
six feet in liis boots, and is evidently a straight forward man. 
He has black hair and eyes. He says a characteristic of the 
English Hazards is dark hair with gray eyes. The upper 
part of his face is strikingly like Rowland N. Hazard — son of 
Jonathan — , and so are its expression and his manner of 
handling himself. All these characteristics are retained 
in two branches of a family that have been widely separated 
for two hundred and forty years or more." Subsequently 
my brother writes from London : " I have seen the names of 
Hazards in a church-yard near Boar or Beer head, where 
Hazards were ' Lords of Beer,' that is, ' Lords of the manor,' 
some centuries ago." 

I may just here remark — although I know it will be scout- 
ed by many — that some fifteen years before I knew any- 
thing of the whereabouts of the European Hazards, the spirits 


of one John Hazard and his daughter used often to com- 
municate with me. They said they lived a few miles south 
of Bristol some three centuries before. John drew a plan of 
his castle through the hand of an entranced medium. This 
plan I now have. Long since then I learned that Bristol 
was the most prominent place of residence of the family in 
England in olden times. 

I add in closing the record of the Hazard family a most 
appropriate though brief notice of an ancestor who preferred 
death to a recantation of his religion. The record is found 
on the four hundred and hfteenth page of Samuel Smiles' 
" The Huguenots ; their Settlements, Churches and In- 
dustries in England and Ireland," and reads thus:" 

" Hazard or Hasaert, Peter. A refugee in England 
from the persecutions in the Low Countries under the 
Duchess of Parma. Returning on a visit to his native land, 
he was seized and burned alive in 1568. His descendants 
still survive in England and Ireland under the name of Has- 


TO THE Hazards of the Middle States. 

Since iny manuscript for the Hazard family was completed I have re- 
ceived for publication from Mr. Willis P. Hazard, of Westchester, Penn- 
sylvania, the following particulars of the Pennsylvania branch of the 
family. This branch, as held by Khode Island tradition, descended to- 
gether with the South Carolina and Georgia Hazards from a nephew — not 
son as Riker in his History of ISTewtown, Long Island, claims — of Thomas 
Hazard, the first settler, whom Thomas brought with him from Wales. 

Thomas E. Hazard, 

The Hazard Family 

OF THE Middle States. 

By WILLIS P. HAZARD, of Westchester, Pa. 

The Hazard family take their name, we think, from the 
two words Aas, high, and ard^ nature, meaning "of high 
disposition, proud, independent." These two words are of 
the ancient British or Welsh language, spoken and written 
by the people of that name, and more nearly allied to the 
Gallic than the Teutonic. As the name is written Hasard, 
Hassard, and Hazard, and apparently, by the old records, in- 
discriminately, it would lend more probability to. what has 
been declared by good authority to be the origin of the 
name. The pionunciation, too, especially by the Hazards 
themselves, which is long on the first syllable, would lead 
almost :any one, a stranger to its mode of spelling, to spell 


it with a z instead of an s. Therefore, if it was originally 
spelled Hasard, according to its derivation, the pronuncia- 
tion has corrupted its original spelling. And yet we have 
other authorities who say the two words are haz and arc?, 
while some branches of the family, still spell their name 
Hassard, and they claim their mode is the correct one. For 
ourselves we prefer to spell the name Hazard. We have 
seen it spelled Hazzard, though not by any recognized 
branches of the family, they being mostly colored people. It 
would be curious, if possible, to ti-ace Avhere they get the 
name from, most likely from some who were formerly slaves, 
and adopted the name of their owners, the Hazards of Car- 
olina, Georgia, and other Southern States — a branch of the 
family that settled there. There is one curious fact which I 
have often noticed, that is, if the address is given to stran- 
gers, they will in most cases write the name Hazzard, spell- 
ing it with two z's; most probably because we do not pro- 
nounce it in the French style, with the accent on the last- 
syllable, Haz-ard. It is amusing also to notice some who 
wish to be extremely polite, or who desire to display their 
knowledge of French and the proper accent, by pronounc- 
ing it in thorough French fashion. 

The Hazards are a strongly marked race, handing down and 
retaining certain peculiarities, from generation to generation. 
One is, a peculiar decision of character, a certain amount of 
pride, and a pronounced independence, coupled with a 
slight amount of reserve. Physically they are strongly 
marked. Generally speaking, thej' are of good stature, and 
vigorous frame, with rather a square head, high forehead, 
brown hair, blue eyes, straight or aquiline nose, and with 
tBeir will shown by a firmly set jaw. Their complexion is 
fair, a little inclined to florid. 

The coat of arms handed clown through generations has 

three escalops and three bars, with an escalop rampant for 

a crest. These are a little varied by some, in the coloring or 

position ; and one that we have seen has a dove holding a 



branch, for a crest. The mottoes vary, as any one is at lib- 
erty to choose what he likes : we have seen " Vive en Uspoir,^^ 
'•'■Fortuna viam ducit,'' '•'•Sinceritas^''^ and "Be just and fear not." 
As the last has come regularly down to us, we use that. 

An anecdote I have heard of one of our kinsmen, as show- 
ing the strongly marked peculiarities of the race, I give. 
An American Hazard, when in Ireland, was pacing up and 
down the platform of a railway station, waiting the ar- 
rival of a train. Shortly a gentleman drove up, and, while 
he too was waiting, soon was busy watching the turns of the 
restless American. The American having spoken or asked 
some question of the railway porter, was shortly after ad- 
dressed by the Irish gentleman with, ''Pray excuse me, but 
is not your name Hazard ?" The American justly astonished 
at being addressed in a foreign land by a stranger, at a bye- 
way station, replied, "It is." "Ah ! I thought so," exclaimed 
the Irish gentleman, " for I watched you as you walked up 
and down, and thought how much you moved and looked 
like a Hazard; but when I heard you speak, I felt so sure of it, 
I made bold to address you. That also is my name ; I live a 
few miles from here, and would be glad to have you go and 
spend some time with me." His importunities were such 
that the American went, and was delightfully entertained at. 
an Irish gentleman's castle. 

The leading proclivities of many of the Hazards are for 
literar}^ pursuits, for mechanical operations and devices, for 
the pursuit of agriculture, with strong religious tendencies, 
which in some have made them famous and active in the 
church, and in others have led into spiritualism or material- 
ism. They have usually a fair amount of ambition, prefer- 
ring always to lead, rather than be led. This fact explains 
why so many of them are prominent in doing their duty to 
society as good citizens. 

The descendants of the Long Island branch are connected 
by marriage with the Banckers, Bleeckers, Clarksons, De- 
peysters. Morses, Vermilyes, of New York ; the Breezes, 


Clarkes, Halls, Hetfiekls, Halsteads, of New Jersey ; the 
Arthurs, Saulsburys, Rockvvoods, of New England ; the 
Finleys, Coxes, Ralstoiis, Blights, Markoes. Gilpins, Ten- 
nents, Chevaliers, Fullertons, Wistars, Snowdens, of Phila 

The Hazard family is believed, according to the traditions in 
our bi-anch, to have first made its appearance in this country 
in the person of Thomas Hazard^, who came over from 
Wales in 1630 or 1632. Like many of tlie immigrants of 
that particular period, he is said to have first visited Jersey, 
then to have gone to Boston, where he was made a freeman 
in 1636, then to have gone to Long Island, where he found- 
ed Newtown. From there it was easy to cross to Rhode Isl- 
and, where he finally settled, lived, and died, as my kinsman 
has already told in a previous part of this volume. He was 
admitted a freeman of Newport, 2nd mo. 7th, 1639, and of 
Aquidneck, Rhode Island, 24th 11th mo., 1639, and of Ports- 
mouth in 1655. See Dr. Stiles' extracts from Rhode Island 
Records ; and Bartlett's Records of Rhode Island. It is 
traditionary that a brother, nephew, or son of Thomas, came 
over with him, and was ancestor of the New York and South 
Carolina Hazards.* 

Thomas certainly brought over with him his son Robert^, 
then four years old. He finally settled in Portsmouth, R. I., 
and eventually in Kingstown. 

Robert^ (^Thomas^^ had five children : Thomas -5, George-^, 
Stephen^, Robert^, Jeremiah^. 

Riker in his Annals of Newtown — 1852 — says : "The 
Hazards were, prior to the Revolution, one of the most 
prominent families in Newtovi^n, [Long Island]. Their an- 
cestor Thomas Hazard^ came from Wales, and was admit- 
ted to freemanship in Boston in 1636 ; in 1652 he became 
one of the founders and first magistrates of Newtown. He 
had several sons, one of whom Robert^ settled in Rhode Isl- 

*Ii. I. Hist. Soc : V. 3, p. 314. 


and and originated the Hazards so highly distiiigiushed in 
the annals of that State. 

"Jonathan^, another son, remained at Newtown; niairicd 
Hannah, daughter of James Laurensoii ; acquired a large 
property and filled various offices. He died in 1711, having 
had issue, Thomas^, James^, Nathaniel ^ Elizabeth ^ (who 
married Edward Hunt), and Sarahs (who married James 
Renne). Thomas^, styled Captain,was supervisor of Newtown 
from 1720 till his death, which occurred August 31, 1738, at 
the age of 51, occasioned by a fall from his horse. By his 
wife Mercy, daughter of Thomas Betts, he had Thomas^, 
Daniel*, Samuel*, John*, and Jonathan^, the last of whom 
settled in Orange County, New York. Daniel*, a sea cap- 
tain, died in New York in 1747, and his only son Thomas 
Hazard^, Esq., died in New York in 1787, aged 43. His 
children as their births are recorded were: William How- 
ard^, born 1770 ; Charles Smiths, born 1772; Frances S.^ 
born 1773, and Benjamine, born 1774. 

'slAMES-^i for fifteen years was a judge of Common Pleas, 
occupied the farm (now of John Duryea) in Newtown. The 
family vault on this estate fell into decay and was filled up 
a few years since. Judge Hazard died April 26, 1765. His 
children were: Rebecca^ (married Robert Morrell), William*, 
Jonathan*. The last married Abigail Pumroy and left a 
son James^, born in 1752. William* was a prominent citizen 
in Newtown ; married Miss Elizabeth Moore; born January 
10, 1725, and died August 25, 1773, aged 48. He left several 
daughters and a son Morris^, who was the grandfather of 
Wm. H. Hazard", of New York, shipping merchant. 

"Nathaniel^, a merchant, finally removed to Philadel- 
phia, and died in 1749. [Error, probably 1765.] He had 
issue: Nathaniel*, Samuel*, Hannah* (married Rev. Samuel 
Sackett), and Sarah*, who married Captain Daniel Hazard. 

''Nathaniel* was a successful merchant in New York; 
died in or about 1764, and left sons: Nathaniel^, Samuel^, 
Joseph^, besides nine daughters, one of whom Elizabeth^, 


married Joseph Hallet, father-iii-law of the late Major John 
Delafield. Nathaniel^, last named, married Mary, daughter 
of Col, Joseph Robinson, and died in 1798; issue, Maria^ and 

"Samuel*, son of Nathaniel^, was the father of the late 
Ebenezer Hazard^, Esq., of Philadelphia, a former Postmas- 
ter General of the United States, and editor of valuable 
contributions to American history." 

Nathaniel Hazard 3 {Jonathan^ ^ Thomas'^'), third son of 
Jonathan, was born in Newtown, Long Island. (See Riker's 
History of Newtown, 1852.) He was a merchant in New 
York, and afterwards in Philadelphia, to which city he moved 
in 1749. His place of business in New York was at the store 
of Thomas Noble, at the ''old slip." He advertises "likely 
negroes, and a prime lot of old Cheshire cheese.'' "He was 
an elder of the Presbyterian church in New York from 1728 
to 1745." "Rev. Mr. Pemberton attended synod with his 
elder, Nathaniel Hazard, May, 1741, and both signed the 
protest against the exclusion of the New Brunswick party." 
The time of his death is uncertain, probably after 1760. 

He married Deborah , and had four children : 1. 

Nathaniel 4. 2. Samuel *. 3. Hannah*. 4. Sarah*. 

Nathaniel HAZARD4 {Nathaniel'^, Jonathan^, Thomas^'), 
married Elizabeth Drummey, who died May 27, 1811. He 
was first settled in business in New Windsor, on the Hudson, 
and afterwards for twenty years in New York. Nathaniel 
was active in the Presbyterian church in New York. There 
was but one Presbyterian church at the time, started in 1719, 
completed in 1730. It is not stated that he was an elder^ 
though one of the most prominent in the church and one of two 
sent with a call to Rev. Dr. Bellamy, of Bethlehem, Conn., 
January, 1754. They met the council at Bethlehem, January 
24. He was one of the commissioners to the association on 
the same subject May 24. His church, for years, importun- 
ed Mr. Bellam}' to settle with them as their pastor. The same 
year he made another visit to Bethlehem. Mr. Bellamy with- 


stood all the pleadings of Nathaniel and others. Bellamy 
wrote to him January 22, 1755. He was the friend and con- 
stant correspondent of Dr. Bellamy, through the years up to 
1765. He most probably lived all his life in New York. 
Nathaniel died in 1765. He had a number of children : 
1. Eliza^. 2. Mary. 3. Ann. 4. Catharine. 5. Catharine. 6. 
Nathaniel. 7. Samuel. 8. Samuel. 9. Mary. 10. Joseph. 11. 
Sai-ah. 12. Margaret. Nathaniel^, the eldest son, was grad- 
uated at Princeton in 1761, two years later than his cousin 
Ebenezer^, son of SamueH, was graduated. Nathaniel* was 
appointed administrator on his brother Samuel's estate,' and 
at his own death, some property not having been yet settled, 
Ebenezer^ was appointed administrator, July 21, 1766. 

Samuel Hazard* {Nathaniel^ , Jonathan'^ ^ Thomas'-), the 
second son of Nathaniel^ and Deborah Hazard, was born in 
Philadelphia, March 20. 1713-14. He was married in New 
York by Rev. Ebenezer Pemberton, October, 1739, to Cath- 
arine Clarkson, daughter of Matthew Clarkson and Corne- 
lia Depeyster, of New York, by whom he had seven children. 
Before he moved to Philadelphia, he was an active and con- 
sistent member and elder of the First Presbyterian church in 
Wall Street, New York. In Philadelphia he lived in Front 
street, east side, below Arch street, in a tall manor-house 
next above Wetherill's drug store, where most probably 
Ebenezer and other children were born. He was a book- 
seller in Phihidelphia, in 1749, or at least sold books, perhaps 
with other merchandise, as he is designated merchant. "He 
was a merchant in Philadelphia, a steadfast and invaluable 
member and an elder in the Second church ; and an original 
and active Trustee of the College of New Jersey. He was the 
father of Ebenezer Hazard, to whom we are so largely in- 
debted for the preservation of the materials of our church his- 
tory.'' See Webster's History of Presbyterian Church, p. 

He was the medium of communication between the Syn- 
ods of New York and Philadelphia. See Webster's History 


pp. 191, 204, 212, 225, 247, 332, 400, 503, 504, 628 to 650, 

Samuel^ died at Philadelphia Friday evening at nine 
o'clock, July 14, 1758, aged 44 years, 3 months and 24 days, 
after a short but severe illness of three days. His disorder 
was opistotnos, or convulsion of the nerves, which began in 
his jaws and spread to his neck, breast and most of the other 
parts of his body, and he was thus unable to swallow either 
food or medicine. He died intestate, and Nathaniel H., 
his brother, was administrator. 

Catharine Hazard, wife of Samuel, daughter of Matthew 
Clarkson 3d, and Cornelia Depeyster, was born in New York, 
Jan nary, 1720; died in New York at the residence of her son 
Ebenezer, Friday, 11 P. M., Augnst 15, 1788, aged 67 years, 
6 months and a half. Her disorder was complicated. She 
was buried on Sunday, the 17th, in the church vault No. 2, 
in the Old Presbyterian churchyard, Wall street, New 
York, and was the first person buried there. Ebenezer was 
one of the trustees of the church and the most active in 
having the vault constructed. She was the sister of Mat- 
thew Clarkson 4th, Mayor of Philadelphia, whose daughter 
married Robert Ralston, a very prominent merchant of Phil- 
adelphia. Catharine's sister Anna married Rev. Samuel 
Finley, President of Princeton College, and formerly head 
of a famous school at Nottingham, Maryland, at which 
Ebenezer H. and so many eminent pupils were educated. 
Among them were Rev. Dr. Rush, Dr. Benjamin Rush, Rev. 
Dr. McWhorter, and Rev. William Tennent. She died Jan- 
uary 14, 1808, aged 80 years. 

Samuel had seven children : 1. The first a daughter, was 
born dead, October 28, 1740. 2. Matthew &, born July 3, 
1742; died July 15, 1742; was baptized by Rev. Samuel 
Blair, July 7, 1742 ; and was buried in the " New Building" 
yard, July 16. 3. Ebenezer ^, born in Philadelphia, January 
15, 1744, at five on Tuesday morning ; died June 13, 1817, 


aged 73 j-eurs ; was baptized in the New Building, by Rev. 
Gilbert Teunent, on the Lord's day, January 27, 1744, being 
a sacramental Sabbath. 4. Anna^, born September 20, 1746, 
Saturday morning, in Philadelphia ; was baptized Sunday 
afternoon, September 28, 1746, by Rev. Gilbert Tennent in 
the New Building; died, unmarried, of the yellow fever in 
her brother Ebenezer's house, 145 Arch street, Philadelphia, 
October 18, 1793, aged 47 years, and was buried the same 
day in the Arch Street burying ground, above Fifth street, 
now removed. 5. Mar}' ^, born in Philadelphia, January 16, 
1750 ; baptized February 17, 1750, by Rev. Gilbert Tennent ; 
was married to Cornelius Tuik, of New York, by Rev. Dr. 
Laidlie, July 29, 1770; died in child-bed June 21, 1772, and 
was buried in the Old Dutch churchyard, New York. 6. 
Elizabeth^, born in Philadelphia, November 2, 1755; was 
baptized, November 23, 1755, by Rev. Gilbert Tennent ; 
married Joseph West, of New York, and lived to an advanced 
age, dying in New York. She had six children : (a)Webley' 
died unmarried, (b) John, (c) Cathaiine, married Uriah Ry- 
der, and liad children, Uriah, Elizabeth West, Abigail, Mary 
Ann, Rebecca, Joseph, Catharine Phoebe. (d) Samuel, 
married Catharine Bantz. (e) Abigail, married Joseph 
Giraud, and had children, Eliza Ann, Frederick, Jacob Post, 
Clarissa (dead), (f) Ann, married Hugh Aikman, of New 
York. 7. Catharine^, born December 13, 1758; baptized 
January 7, 1759, by Rev. Gilbert Tennent. 

Samuel^ was one of the founders of the Pennsylvania 
Hospital, and for years a manager, until his death. See 
printed history of the hospital. He was a trustee of Prince- 
ton College from 1748 to 1757. In 1744, it appears by 
records — in Rec. O. Phila. H. p. 1 — that Jonathan Price and 
wife conveyed to Samuel Hazard (for Tennent's church?) 
land where the old academy was in Fourth street, west side, 
between High and Mulberry. In 1750, Samuel Hazard con- 
veyed to James Logan and others, trustees of the academy 
(part of?) above lot on which S. Hazard afterwards erected 


one tenement or dwelling and stable for .£289. (H. 5,p. 3.) 
With the early history of Philadelphia, and the times of 
the great revival, under the preaching of Whitefield and the 
Tennents, the history of the Second Presbyterian church is 
closely associated ; and with tliat church, the Hazard family 
has been intimatel}^ connected for more than one hundred 
and twenty-five years either as elder, treasurer, or trustee. 
This congregation was organized through the instrumentality 
of the Rev. George Whitefield, in 1743, under the pastoral 
care of Rev. Gilbert Tennent. Many persons were induced 
to turn their attention to religion, under the stirring preach- 
ing of these famous men. Many also left the First church 
in Market street above Second. Samuel Hazard was one of 
the first congregation of one hundred and forty members, 
and was one of Mr. Tennent's first elders. In January, 
1749, the church was sold to the city for an academj', and 
Samuel was one of the trustees to make title and select a 
new site at Third and Arch streets. In February, 1749, he 
was treasurer of the building committee and superintended 
the erection of the new building, which was opened June 7, 
1752. In 1751, he was appointed on the Burial, and Pew 
Committees. Five of his children were baptized by Rev. 
Gilbert Tennent, in the " New Building" in Fourth street 
below Arch; latterly it has been known as tlie "old academy," 
belonging to the University of Pennsylvania, and kept as the 
Academical Department, and where the writer went to school 
to Rev. Samuel Wylie Crawford in 1835-9. It is now pulled 
down — 1879 — and a large Methodist church built on the 
acadeni}^ site, and fine stores on the old play ground in front. 
Samuel Hazard, Rev. Mr. Tennent and others had much 
trouble with the religious views of the Moravians. A letter 
to Count Zinzendorf, a Moravian, which Mr. Hazard wrote 
in Philadelphia, August 28, 1742, runs as follows: 

"Yours of the 28tli ult. I received and must think it but a poor proof of 
that Humility, Meekness and Eeligion you pretend to. If this be the gen- 
uine spirit of the Moravians, I must still say, 'O my soul, come not thou 


into their secret, unto their assembly mine honor be thou not united.' Did 
I tliink it agreeable to Christianity to answer you in your own way, you 
have given a great deal of room for me to be very severe upon you, but I 
shall endeavor to avoid rendering Bailing for Eailing, and just observe in 
answer to yours that I have already complied with all the orders I receiv- 
ed from Mr. Stonehouse to follow your directions in relation to the dispo- 
sal of the Money arising from the sale of the Snow*, so I have nothing 
further to say to you upon that head. I don't well understand what you 
mean by my returning my Directions to Mr. Stonehouse. I suppose you 
can hardly imagine I am so weak as to send his orders back to him again, 
because you tell me to do so. 

Sir, Your humble servant, 

Samuel Hazabd." 
Samuel was a man of great eiiterpiise and given to much 
speculation, })aiticularly in mines and mining lands. There 
exist a number of deeds of such properties in all parts of the 
country, as follows : 

May 1, 1744— Sam. Sackett, Bedford, Westchester Co., New York. 
Aug. 8, 1748 — Jas. Lynd, for 1-8 of 24.96 acres in Somerset Co., New Jersey. 
Nov. 10, 1747 — Several shares of 7 acres at Great Pond, Morris Co., New 

July 18, 1750 — Part owner of Company of Adventurers in copper mine 

"Venus," of 200 acres, in Frederick Co., Maryland, on the Monocasie. ■ 
Sept. 1, 1750 — Jacob Downer, half of all mines in three tracts of land in 

Lancaster Co. 
Feb. 17, 1755 — Oue-fiftli share in all mines in 250 acres, Walpeck, Essex Co., 

New Jersey ; 2 miles on Delaware river, called Minisink. 
Dec. 10, 1755 — 200 acres of land, lead mine, at New River, Augusta Co., 

Dec. 6, 1757 — 1-2 of all lead mines of John Francis, Whiteland, Chester Co., 

Also he entered 2400 acres of land in Augusta Co., Virginia. 
He had also some interest in the Hopewell mine of 600 acres ; and owned 
a house in Shippensburg, Pa. 

But his most ambitious operation was a vast scheme for 
settling a portion of the great West, as granted to him for 
the purpose by the State of Connecticut, which he originat- 
ed and. as he had between five and six thousand persons en- 
gaged to go out and settle there, would undoubtedly have 
carried out, if he had not suddenly died after a few days' 
sickness. Mr. Hazard said he could easily have induced 
ten thousand settlers to go. It was to be entitled " The 

*The Snow was a name for boats, at that time. 


Colony of Bereans in the Valley of Illumination." He was 
to have been Governor, his father and James Hazard and 
others, members of council. John Hazard, of Connecticut, 
and William Hazaid, of New York, are also in the list. The 
object of the settlement was " for the safety of this, and all 
his Majesty's Colonys in North America, and would be 
of very great advantage to the trade and commerce of 
Great. Britain." It was to begin at the distance of one 
hundrt'd miles westward of the western boundaries of Penn- 
tsylvania, and thence to extend one hundred nnles to the 
westward of the Mississippi, and to be divided from Virginia 
and Carolina by the great chain of mountains that run along 
the continent from the north-east to the south-west parts of 
America. He got the grant May 8, 1755, from the State of 
Connecticut, for what was known also as the Ohio settle- 
ment, "provided the petitioner obtain his majesty's (George 
Second) Royal grant and order for settling the said colony." 
But delays occurred in obtaining the royal grant. Lord 
Halifax apprehended "'Two Invincible Difficulties at present 
Lj-e in the way, the confusion arising from the Enemy's 
Being in Possession of that country, and a settlement on 
that Land would Disgust the Indians, who at this Juncture 
yhould by no means be offended." March 2, 1756. Whether 
this was overcome is not clear. "I have writ so particularly 
to you already about the new mission and the new colony I 
have nothing to add but my Impatience for Mr. Hazard's 
and your reply, and I told you have Lord Halifax's Honour 
engaged to forward the Charter and Supplies if the settle- 
ment can be Brought to Bear." London, June 9, 1757. 
Whatever was the result Samuel Hazard died the following 
year, and we have no further mention of the scheme, which 
probably died from want of a leader. In 1755, he requested 
aid from the Governor and Assembly of Pennsylvania for his 
project of a new settlement or colony in the West, See 
Watson's Annals, I, 100 ; see also original minutes of 
Assembly, in colonial records. It would have been of vast 


use to this country as he liad over three thousand men 
enrolled, including a number of clergymen, aiid all picked 
men, many of them with means. 

The character of Samuel Hazaid both in New York and 
Philadelphia was that of an enterprising merchant, a man of 
gi-eat probity and benevolence, and one who led an upright 
and pious life, devoting much of his energies to advancing 
the cause of the Presbyterian church, even into the Indian 

Ebenezer Hazard^ {Samuel^, Nathaniel'^ Jonathan^, 
Thomas^}^ the son of Samuel and Catharine, was born in 
Philadelphia, January 15, 1744-5, on Tuesday morning; was 
baptized in the "New Building" in Fourth stieet by the Rev. 
Gilbert Tennent on the afteinoon of Januaiy 27, 1744-5 — a 
sacramental Sabbath. In early life Ebenezer went to the 
famous school of Rev. Dr. Samuel Finley, his uncle, in 
Nottingham, Maryland, on the borders of Pennsylvania. He 
was graduated at Princeton college in 1762, as A. M. 
November, 1762, he sailed in the privateer Snow, Monck- 
ton, and was ovei'set in her December 14, fifty leagues from 
Martinique and taken up by the brig Unity about six hours 
after. From Martinique he shipped on board his majesty's 
ship Scarborough, cruising in the West Indies until June 10. 
1764. He then sailed for Plymouth. England, and was dis- 
charged October 23. He went to London, and taking pas- 
sage on board ship Ellis, December 7, arrived at Philadel- 
phia March 2, 1765. 

He removed to New York about 1767, when he was 
twenty-two years of age, and that year boarded with and was 
employed by Garret Noel, in whose book-store he worked on 
a salary of two and a half per cent, on the whole sales and 
his board and lodging. In 1770, he became Mr. Noel's 
partner under the firm name of Noel & Hazard. The store 
was next door to the coffee-house in New York. He made a 
tour through Maryland from New York in 1768. As show- 
ing his strong religious sentiment thus early in life, we find 


in his diary of 1767, nine 3'ears after he had lost his father, 
that on every Sunday, is recorded his attendance at church 
three times, tlie name of the preacher, and the text, as well 
as giving- the same unvarying attendance on every Wednes- 
day evening. 

His brother Nathaniel was administrator on their father's 
estate and Ebenezer after the death of Nathaniel in 1765, 
was appointed July 21, 1766, administrator of all the pro- 
perty of Samuel '' unadministered by Nathaniel ;" and in the 
same diary, he says, "January 20, applied to Aunt Hazard for 
my father's papers and was refused ihem ;" " 21st. This day 
the time allowed me to make an inventory expired" : " 21th. 
About this time rec'd Part of my Father's papers from Aunt 
H. and the rest were refused and I suppose will never be got." 
Januaiy 26, 1767, he records' he is " this day twenty-two 
years old'" ; lie was born the 15th old style, and adding the 
eleven days to it would make the date 26th new style. 

He remained in business with Garret Noel as partner 
probably from October, 1772, to April, 1774. There was then 
some trouble, as years after Ebenezer complains of being un- 
justly saddled with his partner's debts, which he had not 
contracted. Though there is a tirm name of Benedict & 
Hazard, and one of Thomas Benedict, April 1, 1774, it was 
most probably a relative. 

In 1770-71, he took a voyage to England. He went in the 
brig Friendship, August 24, 1770, direct to Bristol. He 
called to see Mr. Noel's sister at Haymarket. On his return 
he landed at New York September 26, 1771, after a voyage 
of fifty days. 

May 3, 1775, he was appointed by the Committee of Safety 
of New York as superintendent of the eastern post, with his 
headquarters at New York, when the post-office under the 
King was suppressed. He was therefore the first postmaster 
of New York. His first account of the New York post-oifice 
with the general post-office was January 5, 1776. His ap- 
pointment was afterwards confirmed by the Continental 


Congress. When that city was evacuated by tlie Americans, 
the post-office was transferred with the army in its move- 
ments. In 1777, he was appointed surveyor of the post- 
roads and offices throughout the United States, and ti-aveled, 
while performing his duty, on horseback, between New 
Hampsliire and Georgia, until his appointment January 28, 
1782, as Postmaster General of the United States. He 
served as such until October, 1789. For notice of his ap- 
pointment and that of James Bryson as deputy postmaster, 
see Pennsylvania Gazette of February 6, 1782 ; also notice 
of post-office being removed to Mrs. Budden's iii Front street, 
a few doors south of the coffee-house. 

As early as 1779 he began to collect materials for his His- 
torical Collections, no doubt filling in his spare moments, 
while traveling in the different States, by copying documents. 
He also at this time was collecting information for an Ameri- 
can Geography, but hearing afterwards that Dr. Morse was 
preparing a similar work he turned over all his material to 
him. In 1780 he wrote a life of Rev. Dr. Samuel Finley, 
President of Princeton College. 

At this time, though 36 years of age, he writes he is 
" hurried through life on horseback," and later, that he was. 
"too much hurried t© think of either love or matrimony." 
In November, 1781, he speaks of Philadelphia as likely to be 
his future residence, as he is about being appointed Post- 
master General, and would have to reside where Congress is- 
Yet the next year when he was appointed to that office, we 
have the first admission of the probability of his being a 
married man, his new "settled way of life makes me think 
of being more so ; and would time permit, that business 
should be seriously thought of." And in May, 1783, he 
writes " I have fixed upon a partner and preliminaries are 
settled ; but no time is yet fixed for signing the definitive 
treaty." He also had commenced building a house, a 
moderate-sized one, in Arch near Fifth street. 

Ebenezer married Abigail Anthony, daughter of Joseph 


Anthony and Jane Chevalier, of Nantucket, and was born 
August 5, 1759. They were married September 11, 1783, 
by Rev. Dr. Woodhull, at the house of Samuel Breese, in 
Shrewsbury, N. J. They lived long and very happily to- 
gether, she surviving him three years. 

They had four children : 1. Samuel", born May 26, 1784 ; 
married Abby Clark Hetfield, March 18, 1819 ; died May 26, 
1870, aged 86 years. 2. Elizabeth Breese", born in New 
York March 26, 1786 ; manied Ebenezer Rockwood, of Bos- 
ton, and removed to that city. After his early death in 1815, 
she resided in Philadelphia, and in 1820 in New Haven, to 
educate her four children. Here she married Rev. Thomas 
E. Vermilye, D. D., of New York. She died in New York 
January 12, 1861, aged 75 years. 3. Erskine", born in New 
York November 30, 1789 , married Mary, daughter of Alex- 
ander Fullerton ; and is now dead. He was named for Rev. 
Dr. Erskine, of Edinburgh, a friend and correspondent of 
Ebenezer Hazard. 4. Ebenezer Gordon", born in Philadel- 
phia September 29, 1792 ; died November 5, 1792, aged 5 

Ebenezer Hazard^ died June 13, 1817, at his residence, a 
large house with side yard that he built in 1792, No. 145 
Arch street above Fourth, where Wormath's fur store 
stood or stands, at the age of 73, and was buried in the Arch 
Street burying ground, belonging to the Second Presbyterian 
church, in Arch street above Fifth. This ground has since 
been sold, and his remains as well as those of other members 
of the family who were buried there, were removed to Laurel 
Hill. Rev. Dr. Janeway spoke at the grave. Mrs. Hazard 
died in New Haven Jul}^ 6, 1820. 

When Ebenezer Hazard and Abigail Arthur were married 
in 1783, they went to live at a house on the north side of 
Arch street below Fifth, directly opposite Christ church- 
yard gate, where their son Samuel was born May 26, 1784. 
As Postmaster General he was obliged to have his office in 


the city where Congress sat. Accordingly they removed to 
55 Queen street, New York, in April, 1785, when Congress 
held its sessions in that city. May 1, 1786, he removed to 
the house, No. 58 Broadway ; "very near the Oswego market." 
Here on the 26th, his daughter Elizabeth v/as born. May 1, 
1787, he moved again "opposite to where he lived last year," 
No. 29 Broadwa}. The following is copied from Mrs. Josiah 
Quincy's letters of the date of " New York, 1789" : " Mrs. 
Hazard, who resided in the house opposite ours, was also a 
valuable friend. She was distinguished for the exquisite 
neatness of her establishment, and for capability in every 
branch of domestic economy. She had many and excellent 
servants; but in those days it was usual for ladies to attend 
to housewifery, and she kindly gave me much useful instruc- 
tion." The following is extracted from PonLson's paper July, 
1820; " Died in this city [New Haven] on the 6th inst., 
Mrs. Abigail Hazard, widow of Ebenezer Hazard, E^^q., of 
Philadelphia, and formerly Postmaster General. In this 
excellent woman, sound understanding and amiable disposi- 
tions were adorned by polished and dignified manners, and 
ennobled by their union with genuine Christian virtue. The 
law of kindness dwelt in her heart, governed her conduct, 
and guided her conversation ; producing the delightful ex- 
pressions and habits of sincere, uniform, and lasting friend- 
ship. While affected by anxiety, age and ill-health, to a 
degree which might seem almost to excuse discontent and 
moroseness, she still expressed her humble reliance on the 
direction of Infinite wisdom, and showed the same cheerful, 
good will to men, whicli had distinguished her brighter days. 
Her religion was not of the tongue and the countenance, but 
of the life. * * ♦ * gy humility, pureness, gentleness, 
forbearance, forgiveness of injuries, kindness, patience, forti- 
tude, faith in God, and benevolence towards man, and 
especially by the control and suppression of selfish feelings, 
she showed that she liad imbibed some measure of the spirit 
of Him. * * * * The knowledge of Mrs. Hazard's ex- 


cellence was of course most diffused among those who had 
longest known her ; but report ha^ brought it into a land of 
strangers. The residence of a few weeks confirmed the im- 
pressions which had preceded her arrival ; and some even 
here can tell of the mild and unobtrusive form which her 
goodness wore. In the calm confidence of faith, she prepar- 
ed for death, before its approach was visible, and that Savior 
in whom she trusted, was pleased to preserve her, so far as 
human sense could discern, from all the terrors of dissolu- 
tion. * * * jjer spirit rests in peace ; and well may 
those who knew her character, and witnessed her departure, 
say, 'let us die the death of the righteous, and let our last 
end be like hers.' " 

" Only a short time befoie her death, Mrs. Hazard had moved 
to New Haven to be with her daughter, Elizabeth Rockwood, 
who had taken up her residence there, in order that her chil- 
dren should be educated in New England as directed in Mr. 
Rockwood's will. In 1783, a committee of Congress appoint- 
ed to examine the affairs of the post-office report, that " the 
duties of that office are discharged with the utmost industry, 
and econoni}', and with great attention at the same time to 
the public convenience." Upon the giving up of his position 
as Postmaster General, feeling it was necessary for him to 
make exertions, Mr. Hazard spent some time in settling up 
the post-office business, and looking for an occupation. In 
1790, he was appointed by General H. Knox, Secretary of 
War, one of three to appraise West Point, about to be pur- 
chased by the United States from Stephen Moore. 

He returned to Philadelphia December, 1790. He was 
living in 1791 at a house at No. 189 Second street above 
Race, west side, next door south of the sign of the Buck, 
between Race and Vine. While there he buried his infant 
child Ebenezer Gordon, named after his friend. Rev. William 
Gordon, the author of a history of the American Revolution, 
and with whom he lived while stopping in Boston, and who 
afterwards returned to St. Neatts', England, and correspond- 


ed with him until his death. From January, 1791, to July, 
1792, he was in partnership with Jonas Addoms, as brokers 
and commission merchants, under the name of Hazard & Ad- 
doms, in No. 173 Market street, below Third, on the south 
side. They dissolved partnership in 1792. They bought and 
sold stocks, real estate, and sold goods on commission. See 
American Daily Advertiser, January 1792. His office in 1793 
was at 119 South Front street. He was one of the founders 
of the present North American Insurance Company, 1794, 
which began as the Universal Tontine Association. He was 
secretary of the Tontine and Insurance Company for many 
years. In 1793, the whole family of nine were attacked by 
yellow fever, of whom his sister Anna died and was buried the 
same day, October 18. Of the servants, a Mrs. Flint, nurse, 
died. He was secretary and agent of the Washington Tontine, 
established in 1794, for buying lots, and building houses and 
wharfs in "-the new Federal City of Washington," or "to 
form an extensive union of public and private benefits in 
its improvement." 

Ebenezer Hazard was a man of fine and strong intellect, 
of highly cultivated mind, with a clear, cool head, and strong 
tendency to a sensible piety. He was one of the trustees of 
the Old Presbyterian Church in Wall street. New York, and 
the most active, during his residence there. It was the 
church of his ancestors, who helped to found it. He was 
trustee and elder in the Second Presbyterian church. Third 
and Arch streets, until his death, from his nomination in 
1784. He was trustee of the General Assembl3\ He was a 
most excellent and deeply read Bible student, and a fine 
Greek scholar. When Charles Thomson, the Secretary of 
Congress, was making his original translation of the Bible, 
published in four volumes, 800 pages, he sent his MSS. in 
regularly to Ebenezer for his revision. We have the corre- 
spondence between the two, and while Mr. Thomson would 
frequently rebel against the corrections, he generally yielded 
to the reasons advanced. Mr. Hazard finally purchased Mr. 


Thomson's share in the transaction ; and afterwards dispos- 
■ed of them to Mr. Earle, bookseller. The printing of it was 
begun in 1808 by Miss Aitkin, daughter of Mr. Aitkin the 
printer. Mr. Hazard corrected the proof-sheets. He wrote 
" Remarks on a Report concerning Western Indians" in 2 
Hist. Col. IV. 

He published in 1792 the first volume, which was followed 
by the second in 1794, of " Historical Collections, consisting 
of State Papers and other authentic Documents," printed to 
preserve them and form the basis of the History of the Unit- 
ed States ; 2 vols., large quarto. With unwearied industry 
he traveled over the country from State to State, armed by 
the authority of Congress with the right to examine and copy 
whatever he saw fit, and thus he made copies of state pa[)ers 
and documents, which he said were then fast going into decay 
or being lost. He was materially assisted by Thomas Jeffer- 
son, John Adams, Charles Thomson, and other statesmen. 
This work is now extremely rare and copies of it have brought 
as high as $Q5. When he had partly prepared material for 
two volumes his labors were arrested by his appointment to 
the office of Postmaster General of the United States. He 
was tlie third to hold the office, succeeding Benj. Franklin 
and Richard Bache. He .served from 1782 till the adoption 
of the Constitution in 1789. His previous labors as post- 
master having eminently fitted him for the office, he applied 
himself thoroughly to his new position, and brought order out 
of chaos, conducting the department with such business tact 
and unswerving honesty as to make it a paying part of the 
government for the first time. He proposed and carried out 
many improvements. 

It was while he was Postmaster General that the first news 
of the Battle of Lexington, the first Battle of the Revolution, 
was promulgated by him. The battle occurred April 19, 
1775, and news was instantly started by post-riders to the 
seat of government. As the document passed through the 
many towns on the route, it was endorsed by members of the 


Comnnttee of Safety in each place, or by the postmaster, 
until it reached Ebenezer's hands and received his final 
endorsement. This deeply interesting paper and the first 
official one of our Revolution can be seen in the Historical 
Society's rooms. 

During his useful and busy life, Ebenezer Hazard was a 
member of many societies, in which, noLwlthstanding his pro- 
fessional duties as bookseller, postmaster, broker, and secre- 
tary of an insurance company, he was always one of the most 
active. He was elected member. May 10, 1800, of the "Hu- 
mane Society for Recovering Peisons from Suspended Ani- 
mation, or Drowning." Joseph Cruikshnnik was president, 
and Isaac Snowden, secretary. In 1805, he was chosen a 
member of the "Massachusetts Society for Promoting Chris- 
tian Knowledge." He was for many years manager of the 
Schuylkill and Pennsylvania Bridge Company ; also of the 
Delaware and Schuylkill Canal Company ; of the Philadelphia 
Dispensary ; of the Guardians of the Poor ; and of the Board 
of Missions. Of this last organization he was a most effective 
member, keeping all their papers, and writing most of the 
annual reports for the General Assembly, as well as instruc- 
tions to the missionaries. He was also Curator of the Ameri- 
can Philosophical Society, to which he often contributed, 
having a turn for philosophical science. He was the first corre- 
sponding member of the Massachusetts Historical Society ; 
and also member of the New York Historical Society, and 
fellow of the American Academy of Natural Sciences. 

His correspondence with Rev. Jeremy Belknap, the found- 
er of the Massachusetts Historical Society, author of the 
History of New Hampshire and other works, was long and 
very interesting, mainly on literary, historical, and scientific 
topics. This correspondence was published by the Massa- 
chusetts Historical Society, in 1878, in two handsome 

Of himself, he wi-ote in a family letter in 1806, that he 


"had to begin the world at the age of nineteen, without a 
profession, without a trade, without a shilling in his pocket, 
without anything but a good education, a good character, 
and confidence in God ; he was obliged to be both indus- 
trious and economical ; accommodated his wishes to his cir- 
cumstances ; rendered his situation as comfortable as he 
could by cultivating contentment with the allotments of 
Providence, and at length attained a sufficiency to soften the 
pillow of age, and smooth the rugged declivity of life." 

He was a man of sound judgment, and of such liberal 
and enterprising turn of mind, that he was always willing to 
take a share of the risk which any venture that was sanction- 
ed by his judgment demanded. He was therefore a useful 
promoter, with his influence and capital, of many improve- 
ments which have been of great use to the citizens of Phila- 
delphia. Among these may be named the Schuylkill Navi- 
gation Compan}', for which he drew up the proposals, and the 
outline of the act to be passed by the Legislature, in 1813, 
only four years before his death. Many of his friends and 
relatives not only consulted him about their investments, but 
placed their means in his hands to be cared for, and relied on 
his great probity and scrupulous honesty. 

Samuel Hazard^ {Ehenezer^, Samuel^, Nathaniel^' 
Jonathan"^^ Thomas^'), the son of Ebenezer and Abigail ; was 
born in Arch street, below Fifth, old No. 161, north side^ 
May 26, 1784. He was baptized by Rev. James Sproat in 
the Second Presbyterian Church, Third and Arch streets, 
July 23, 1789. 

In his childhood, in 1791, he went to Rev. Dr. Ely's school 
adjoining the church. Third and Arch streets ; afterwards in 
1793 to Rev. Dr. Andrew Hunter's school in Woodbury, N. J., 
for three years ; then to the old academy in Fourth street. 
He then entered the Freshman class of Princeton College in 
1797, aged about fourteen years, and left there when a Soph- 
omore in 1799, owing to sickness which prevented his return 
to college. 


After leaving college he entered in 1800 thecounting-liouse 
of Robert Ralston, an eminent merchant and great philan- 
thropist, whose wife was Sarah Claikson, first cousin to his 
father, Ebenezer Hazard. After serving a few years' appren- 
ticeship, it became his turn to go as supercargo. This was 
considered a reward to those who served their apprenticeship 
well. His first voyage was to the West Indies in March, 
1806, returning in June. His father wrote at this time of 
him, "you can not exceed the truth in speaking of his dili- 
gence, punctuality and integrity." 

In November, 1806, he engaged from Captain Paul Cox 
the front room of his house. No. 83 South Front Street, as a 
counting-house at the rate of $80 per annum. In Decem- 
ber, 1806, he formed a partnership with Samuel Cabot, a 
young man from Boston, under the name of Hazard & Cabot, 
commission and shipping merchants at South Wharf, first 
below Chestnut sti-eet. This enterprise lasted until July 1, 
1811. The business was successful until the passage of 
the embargo and non- intercourse act. 

His next voyage, in 1812, was in charge of one of Mr. 
Ralston's vessels as supercargo, on a trading voyage to the 
Mediterranean. Here he was captured by the Turks and 
kept as a prisoner for four months and then ransomed. After- 
wards his vessel was captured by a French privateer in the 
War of 1812. His vessel was finally restored to him, after 
lying idle during the war at Smyrna. His narrative of his 
experiences on these voyages was always very entertaining. 
In March, 1812, he .applied for a passport, in which he is 
described as twenty-eight years old, of fair complexion, with 
light hair, aquiline nose, long chin, oval face, blue eyes, and 
of five feet seven inches in height. He was at Malta, 
August 9, 1812. In June, 1813, he was at Constantinople. 
He returned to America in 1815. While abroad he came 
across a marble foot, beautifully sculptured, part of a colossal 
statue of Minerva. This he brought home, and presented it 


to the Academy of Fine Arts. He carried it a long distance 
on horseback to Smyrna with great difiliculty. 

In 1817, at tlie request of Charles N. Bancker he went to 
Lexington, Kentucky, to settle some affairs. He then jour- 
neyed to Huntsville, Alabama Territory, and took an account 
of stock of a store which fell to Mr. Bancker in the above 
settlement. On his return to Philadelphia he was persuad- 
ed to take an interest in the store. Accordingly in 1818 he 
settled in Huntsville, as resident partner of Hazard & Co., 
selling goods and purchasing cotton for the northern market. 
While there he met Abigail Clark Hetfield, daughter of 
Morris Hetfield of Elizabeth, N. J., who was staying with her 
sister Sarah, wife of Willis Pope. He was married to her 
March 18, 1819, by Rev. Mr. Davis, at the residence of Col. 
Leroy Pope. He made a bridal tour among Colonel Percy's, 
Colonel Walker's, and other families, and then eastward to 
make acquaintances with their mutual relations. In Hunts- 
ville four children were born to them. He built a house, and 
was a prominent citizen and an alderma)i, active in establish- 
ing a church, and in bringing a missionary out. 

Owing to the burning of two cargoes of cotton, the busi- 
ness was unprofitable, and the firms of Hazard & Co., and 
Hazard, Pope & Co., failed in 1826. Samuel Hazard gave 
up every cent's worth of property to his creditors, even to 
the household goods to which he was entitled. His creditors 
seeing the misfortune was beyond his control, as a mark of 
respect and confidence raised a handsome sum, nearly -$3000, 
and presented it to him. With this, his wife, and three 
children, he came north to Philadelphia in June, 1827. 

Being of a literary turn of mind, inherited from his father, 
in 1820 he commenced the publication of the Register of 
Pennsylvania, the first of a series of works on the history of 
his native State which will make his name immortal. This 
he published in weekly numbers, or two volumes a year, for 
a period of eight years. The sixteen volumes contain a vast 


amount of historical research relating to the city and State, 
which is often quoted by historians and statesmen, and is re- 
ceived as authority in the courts of the State. It is not too 
much to say that this work, together with that of Watson's 
Annals which first appeared partly in the Register, helped 
mainly to form that love for antiquarian lore which has been 
so fruitful in collecting and preserving many things which 
would otherwise have been lost. But at that time it was 
just forming, the number of readers was too few to support a 
literary periodical of that character without advertisements, 
and its publication had to be suspended. 

Having been appointed, in 1828, Secretary of the Board of 
Guardians of the Poor, he fulfilled that office for seven years, 
and on his retirement received a vote of thanks and a sum 
of money, November 2, 1836. 

In July, 1839, he commenced the publication of the Unit- 
ed States Commercial and Statistical Register, a work some- 
what on the plan of the Pennsylvania Register, but of wider 
scope, and intended for the use of merchants and for the pre- 
servation of useful statistics. This he continued for three 
years, until July 1842, forming six royal octavo volumes. 

In 1850 he published Annals of Pennsylvania from the 
Discovery of the Delaware, 1609-1682, a large volume, giv- 
ing the early history of New York, New Jersey, Delaware, 
and Maryland, besides that of Pennsylvania, and including 
all relating to Pennsylvania from the time of the charter to 
the taking possession of the country ; a work full of original 

By acts of Legislature and the commission of Governor 
Ritner, in 1851, Samuel Hazard was authorized to prepare 
and superintend ^the publication of a vast mass of papers in 
the archives of the State. He therefore edited with great 
labor and research, the Colonial Records, sixteen volumes, 
and Pennsylvania Archives, twelve volumes. The publica- 
tion was commenced in 1850 and finished in 1855. He after- 
wards prepared a most valuable index to the whole which 


unlocks the contents of the twenty-eight volumes ; this was 
published in 1860. This weary labor of eight years has 
produced a fund of information which no historian can over- 

He was early a member of the Pennsylvania Historical 
Society, and always deepl}^ interested in it. In 1850, he was 
elected honorary life member, and in 1862 the librarian by an 
unusually large vote, and without solicitation. The society 
had his portrait painted and it now graces their walls. He 
served as librarian until his failing sight obliged him to re- 
sign; during his service he arranged and classified a vast 
mass of papers, pamphlets, and books, and fully catalogued 
them, thus making the treasures available. At his death, 
Edward Armstrong was appointed to deliver an eulogy 
upon him. He was also a corresponding member of the New 
York Historical Society; and long a member of the Franklin 
Institute. In June, 1832, he issued proposals for publishing 
a Historical Journal of the Presbyterian church, in the Unit- 
ed States. 

The American Literary Association was formed in 1805 
for mutual improvement. It ceased five years later, when 
twelve of the members formed the Phcenix Social club, 
which was never to be increased. Each member had a water 
color portrait made, all of which were bound in the book of 
constitution and rules, and the volume was to be the pro- 
perty of the last surviving member. It fell to Samuel 
Hazard, he having been a member sixty-five years. James 
West was next to the last one. 

Samuel Hazard was a member of many societies, as fol- 
lows : 

1805, Nov. 18. Elected resident member of the American Literary Asso- 
ciation, established in October. 
1809. Elected member of Philadelphia Linnsean Society; Dr. B. S. Barton, 
President. The society met in the old medical college, South Fifth 
street, now the dispensary. 
1809. Elected member of Bible Society. 
1809. Elected member of Orphan Society. 
1811. Elected member of Chamber of Commerce. 


1814. Elected member of Academy of Natural Sciences. 

1816. Elected member of Soup Society. 

1817. Elected member of Society for Promoting Economy. 

1818. Elected Director of Public Library in Huntsville. 

1819. Elected Assistant Secretary of Agricultural Society. 
1828. Elected Secretary of the Guardians of the Poor. 

1828. Elected Corresponding Secretary of Horticultural Society, then just 

1835. Elected Trustee; and as the Building Committee signed the deeds 
of the Second Presbyterian Church. 

1836. Elected Secretary of the Board of Trustees of the Second Presby- 
terian Church — a position he held for twenty-eight years and missed 
attending only two meetings owing to absence from the city. 

1839. Elected Secretary of the Buck Mountain Coal Company. 
1839. Elected member of the Statistical Society of Boston. 
18.39. Elected Member of the Corporation of the Widows' Fund. 
1845. Elected member of National Academy of Design, Washington. 
1851. Appointed by the Governor and Legislature to edit the Colonial 

Records and Archives. This he did in twenty-nine volumes, finishing 

the work in 1860. 
1857. Elected Honorary Member of the Moravian Historical Society of 

1857. Elected Honorary Member of the Historical Society of Tennessee. 

He was one of the founders of the Philadelphia Hose Company, institu- 
ted January 2, 1804, being the first hose company in Philadelphia. He was 
an active member while he remained in the city, and was one of the com- 
mittee to collect subscriptions. 

Busy man as he was, his religious life was a very decided 
one from the time of his youth. He was only nineteen when 
he wrote out the book of Proverbs to carry around with him 
for private reading. It was at Germantown, where the family 
had been driven by the yellow fever of 1803. He says, in 
his later life, "My mornings were chiefly spent in retirement 
and devotional exercises. * * * i look back on this 
period of my life as the most pleasant, being closely devoted 
to God, and truly days of peace and pleasantness." He 
maintained an ardent piety all his life, and like his ancestors 
it was a pleasure for him to work for the church. He was 
elder of the Second Presbyterian church, and Secretary of 
the Board of Trustees for twenty-eight years, a position he 
only relinquished on account of his failing eyesight, in 1864, 
and was Honorary Secretary till his death. He published 


his reminiscenses of tlie church and in its changes entitled 
a "Communication to the Board of Trustees," which has 
been the basis of nearly all the facts since published about 
the church. 

From such long and steady use of his eyes i)i reading and 
w]-iting his eyesight began to fail him, and for the last six 
years of his life he was totally blind. His mind was active 
and strong to the last, and his tenacious memory was of 
great use to him and to the many who consulted him. His 
misfortune was a heavy one to him, as his vigorous constitu- 
tion would have allowed him to have done much more work 
and which his mental activity would have led him to do. He 
was of a very genial disposition, fond of society, of elevated, 
and improving character. 

Samuel Hazard died May 26, 1870, aged 86 years, leaving 
four children. He had nine children : 

1. Abbie^, l)orn December 24, 1819 ; died in Arch street, 
Philadelphia, 8 years old ; and was buried in the Arch street 
ground^ September 17, 1827. 2. Elizabeth^, born November 
6, 1821; married, June, 1845, by Rev. Albert Barnes, to 
Walter Kerr Halsted ; died in Cincinnati, Ohio, April 5, 
1861, leaving four children : (a) Elizabeth Wetherill, born 
May 19, 1846 ; died July 1, 1846. (b) Kate, married to 
Benjamin Shepard, of Shepardsville, now residing in Orange, 
New Jersey, and has two children, Benjamin Halsted, and 
William Ellison, (c) Walter Kerr, died December 26, 1853. 
(d) Samuel Hazard. 3. Samuel^ born May 29, 1823; was 
drowned while bathing in the Schuylkill river. May 22, 1834, 
aged 11 years. The body was recovered next day, and buried 
in the Arch stieet ground. 4. Willis Pope'', born in Hunts- 
ville, Alabama, July 22, 1825; married Susan Robinson Gil- 
pin, daughter of Vincent Gilpin and Naomi Robinson, No- 
vember 14, 1860. Inheriting the taste for bookselling that 
his three immediate ancestors had, he entered the book busi- 
ness at sixteen years of age, went into that business when 
twenty-five, and after publishing largely sold out when tliir- 


ty-eight, and finally retired at forty, and gave himself up to 
literary and agricultural pursuits on his farm Maple Knoll, 
near Westchester. He has prepared for the press several 
hooks, of which the most important is "The Annals of Phila- 
delphia in the Olden Time," being a companion to Watson's 
Annals, in one volume, octavo, 620 pages; also, "The Jersey, 
Guernsey, and Alderney Cow," one volume, octavo; "A Trea- 
tise on Butter and Butter-making ; " and one on "The 
Guenon System of Judging of Cows,'' one volume, octavo. 
He is chief of the Bureau of Agriculture of the Permanent 
Exhibition ; President of the Chad's Ford Farmer's Club ; 
Vice-President of the Ameiican Dairymen's Association ; 
Member of the Committee to revise the Constitution of the 
International Dairy Fair Association ; Secretary of tho Penn- 
sylvania Guenon Commission ; President of the American 
Carburetter Company, and Member of the Microscopical So- 
ciety of Westchester. He was one of the originators and 
Vice-Presidents of the Book Trade Association. 

The children of Willis P.'^ and Susan G. Hazard are: 
(a) Anna Shipley^, born September 10, 1851 ; died March 
12, 1853 ; buried at Laurel Hill, (b) Vincent Gilpin », born 
January 20, 1853. (c) Kate Hood^, born August 27, 1854. 
(d) Florence Naomis, born July 24, 1856. (e) Willis Het- 
field^, born July 29, 1866. 5. Maria Percy '^, born Decem- 
ber 25, 1828 ; married William Veitch, December 30, 1869 ; 
Mr.Veitch was born August 27, 1799. 6. Spencer Halsted^, 
born November 25, 1830 ; once a dry goods commission mer- 
chant of Philadelphia ; now a broker in New York. 7. 
Emily '^, born September 25, 1832; died, at Germantown 
March 6, 1867. 8. Samuel'^, the fourth bearing the name, 
born March 1, 1834 ; was a book-seller, succeeding Willis 
P., which business he left to go into the war of the Rebel- 

He entered the regiment entitled "Colonel Rush's Lanc- 
ers", afterward the Sixth Pennsylvania Cavalry, at its organ- 
ization, and was mustered First Lieutenant of Co. D., on 


September 12, 1861. He served with it until April 30, 1862, 
when he was forced to resign on account of ill-health, after 
repeated and most praiseworthy endeavors to overcome the 
evil effects on his constitution of the exposure of camp life. 

In September, 1862, supposing his health sufficiently re- 
stored, he recruited a company for the 152d Pennsylvania 
Volunteers, 3rd Artillery, Colonel Roberts, and was muster- 
ed in as Captain, February 11, 1863; served with his company 
at Fortress Munroe during 1863. In the Petersburg cam- 
paign of 1864-5, commanded a detachment of his regiment 
at Fort Converse in the time of the Bermuda defences, un- 
der General Charles K. Graham, where his command was 
remarkable for its discipline, neatness, and precision of drill. 
Resigned, on surgeon's certificate of disability, February 13, 
1865. Breveted Major, March 13, 1865. 

He went twice to Cuba for his health, and on his return, 
wrote in 1870 a book entitled "-Cuba with Pen and Pencil," 
in one volume, octavo, with many illustrations, of which 
some were his designs ; it is a most entertaining narrative, 
had a large sale, and is used for and said to be, the best 
handbook for visitors to the island. Later, he went as cor- 
respondent for the press, and on the staff of the Santo Domin- 
go Commission, sent out by General Grant to view and report 
on the country with a view of its annexation. Major Haz- 
ard wrote in 1872, "Santo Domingo, past and pi-esent, with a 
glance at Haj^ti, a history of, and travels in, that country ;'' 
in one volume, octavo, profusely illustrated, published in this 
country by Harper Brothers, and in London by Sampson, 
Low & Co., in 1873. It was universally praised, and declar- 
ed the most reliable and descriptive work on the island. 
Shortly after his return he married, June 1, 1871, Blanche 
Crissy Peabody, widow of William Massey, Jr., and sailed 
for Europe, where he remained three years, consulting 
the best physicians and visiting the spas, for his health. 
He returned in 1875, and died January 10, 1876. While 
abroad two children were born to him, and still survive : 


(a) Spencer^, born in London, February 28, 1872. (b) 
Samuel*^, born in Dresden, 1874. 

Julia Hetfield^, ninth child of Samuel", born June 22, 
1836 ; died October 17, 1844, aged 8 years. 

Abigail Clark Hetfield, the wife of Samuel Hazard, the 
second, was connected with the best families in New Jersey. 
Her fathei- was Morris Hetfield, and her mother was Abigail 
Clark, daughter of Abraham Clark, who was born February 
15, 1726 ; married 1749 ; died September 15, 1794 ; he was 
a signer of the Declaration of Independence. The old man- 
sion and farm of the Hetfields has been in the family in a 
direct line for over two hundred years. Abigail married 
Samuel Hazard, March 18, 1819, in Huntsville, Alabama; 
had nine children as stated above, and died September 15, 
1863, aged 73 years. She was a very pretty woman, of me- 
dium height, brown hair, and blue eyes, and possessed of 
great intelligence and spirit, activity to the last, and a pious 

Erskine Hazard^, the second son of Ebenezer and Abi- 
gail, the sixth generation from the first in this country, was 
born in New York November 30, 1789 ; lie married Mary 
Fullerton, daughter of Alexander Fullerton and Mary Hall ; 
he died March, 1865; they had eight children : Alezander-, 
Erskine, Erskine, Fisher, Albert Barnes, Harry WiUiam«, 
Mary, and Fanny. 

He went to school at an early age in Philadelphia ; after- 
wards to the grammar school at Princeton ; then to the Qua- 
ker Academy in Philadelphia, where he was told he knew 
all the Latin and Greek they could teach him. Accordingly 
he was sent to Princeton College at thirteen years of age, 
where he remained till tlie Junior year. He then went to 
Boston and Andover studying with tutors. But disliking 
study by this time, he persuaded his father to put him into 
mercantile life, studying as preparatory to it, for some 
months, French and Chemistry. He entered Mr. Stilli's 


counting-house, whicli he left for that of Hazard & Cabot, 
where he remained until of age. 

In 1811, he made a trip to Niagara, expecting to settle down 
to a life in the woods. Not liking it, he returned to Phila- 
delphia, and, in 1812, went into the business of manufactur- 
ing wire, with Josiah White, the first mill of the kind in the 
country. The business, owing to the war with England, 
proved very lucrative, until the peace, when the imported 
article ruined their business. They had very largely in- 
creased their mill and machinery at the Falls of the Schuyl- 
kill. Learning there was coal up in the Schuylkill regions, 
they thought if the navigation of the river could be so im- 
proved as to allow the passage of boats to bring it down, it 
might pa3\ They therefore invented the plan of locks and 
dams, applied to the Legislature for a charter, Ebenezer Haz- 
ard preparing the bill, etc. Thus was originated the Schuyl- 
kill Navigation Company. Several wagon-loads of coal were 
hauled in 1814, to experiment with, at a cost of one dollar 
per bushel. But the workmen got tired of testing it, think- 
ing it required constant stirring up like bituminous coal, and 
cleared out, shutting the door and leaving the draft on. A 
hand returned in about half an hour afterwards for his coat, 
and was surprised to see the furnace red-hot. That settled 
all difficulties, and enabled them to make wire so easily they 
cleared $50,000 per annum and could sell all they could make. 
In the height of success the mill took fire and destroyed 
everything. With new capital, the mill was rebuilt, was fill- 
ed with new machinery, and had fairly got under way again, 
when news of peace arrived. 

The low price of the imported article forced them to find 
every means of cheapening the manufacture until the canal 
was made. Erskine built a bateau of sheet-iron, and went 
up the Schuylkill in it, being perhaps the first iron boat ever 
built. He built a foot-bridge across the Schuylkill which 
was the first wire-bridge perhaps ever built. 


Owing to too high a price being charged by the Schuyl- 
kill Navigation Company for freight and coal, Mr. 
White started up the Lehigh, and the result was, that finally 
they leased a mine, and originated the Lehigh Navigation 
Company in 1818. By this time' the reduced wire-business 
had also lowered their interest in it, and the activity of 
White and Hazard w^as diverted to the carrying out of the 
development of the coal trade and the navigation of the 
Lehigh. In this undertaking they made another invention, 
that of the gravity road, now the famous Switchback. In 
1827, they laid nine miles of track upon it and made it 
almost the first railroad. The cars were then hauled by 
mule-power. His interests were now so identified with the 
development of the Lehigh coal trade and the Navigation 
Company, that he removed to Mauch Chunk and resided 
there in 1819 and for many years. 

He afterwards moved to and settled in Philadelphia, 
always retaining his interest in the Lehigh Company, and 
was also one of the originators of the Crane Iron Works at 
Catasaugua, which were also very successful. 

Early endowed with a taste for mechanics, his ingenuity 
led him to invent many novel modes of getting at useful re- 
sults, and he freely gave his ideas to others, which they 
carried out to their own or the public's advantage. He 
also invented a new cannon for carrying a great distance. 
In latter life, he was much afflicted with gout but he em- 
ployed his active mind in writing essays on the currency, 
banking, and other useful topics. 

He was a man of great energy, clear thought, prompt ac- 
tion, liberal ideas, and public-spirited, all of which enabled 
him to carry out the great works he undertook, and which 
have yielded and still yield their large benefits to the public. 

Genealogy. ■ 

Thomas Hazard^, came to this country, 1632. 

Jonathan Hazard^ (Thomas^), at Newtown, L. I.; mar- 
ried Hannah Laurenson ; died 1711 ; had children : 1. Thom- 
as3, born 1682 ; died August 31, 1733. 2. James^, judge at 
Newtown, L. I. ; died April 25, 1765. 3. Nathaniel 3, a mer- 
chant; died about 1765. 4. Elizabeth^, married E^dward 
Hunt. 5. Sarah3, married James Renne. 

Thomas Hazard 3 (Jonathan^, TAow?a«i), styled Captain, 
was supervisor of Newtown from 1720 till his death, which 
occurred August 31, 1733, at the age of 51 years, and was 
occasioned by a fall from his horse. By his wife Mercy, 
daughter of Thomas Betts, he had children : 1. Thomas*. 
2. Daniel*, a sea-captain, died in New York in 1747. His 
child was: (a) Thomas^, died in New York in 1787, aged 
48 years; had four children. 3. Samuel*. 4. John*. 5. 
Jonathan*, settled in Orange County, New York. 

James Hazard ^ (Jonathan^ ^ Thomas^), for fifteen years 
was a judge of Common Pleas at Newtown, L. I. ; occupied 
the farm now of John Duryea, in Newtown. The family 
vault on this estate fell into decay and was fitted up a few 
years since. Judge Hazard died April 26, 1765. His chil- 
dren were : 1. Rebecca*, married Robert Morrell. 2. Wil- 
liam*, born January 19, 1725 ; was a prominent citizen in 
Newtown ; married Elizabeth Moore ; died August 25, 1773, 
aged 58 years. He had several daughters, and a son : (a) 
Morris*, who was the grandfather of William H.', of New 
York, a shipping merchant. 


Nathaniel Hazard^ (Jonathan^, Thomas'^^, a mercliant 
in New York and Philadelphia. His children were : 1. 
Nathaniel^, a merchant in New York; died about 1765; 
married Elizabeth Drnmmey, who lived to be nearly one 
hundred years old, and died May 27, 1811. 2. Samuel^, 
born March 20, 1713-14; married October, 1739; died July 
14, 1758. 8. Hannah*, married Rev. Samuel Sacket, of 
Bedford, a native of Newtown, and had children : (a) 
Nathaniel Sacket. (b) Samuel Sacket. 4. Sarah *, married 
Captain Daniel Hazard, and had children : (a) Sarah 
Hazard, who married Captain Howard, (b) Thomas, married 
Martha Smith, and had children, Thomas Hazard, and 
Margaret Hazard. 

Nathaniel Hazard^ {Nathaniel'^, Jonathan,,, Thomas^), 
married Elizabeth Drummey, and had twelve children : 1. 
Eliza, or Elizabeth^, married December 11, 1761, Joseph 
H'allett, and had six children: (a) Elizabeth, married 
Robert Gault. (b) Lydia, married Frederick Heilitz. (c) 
Ann, married Major John Delafield. (d) Cathaiine, married 
William Payne, (e) Sarnh, died unmarried, (f) Maria, 
married Hon. Benjamin Talmadge. 2. MaryS. 3. Ann 
Hazard^, married Thomas Treadwell, and had six children : 
Mary, Nathaniel, Elizabeth, Hannah — married Henry 
Davis — , Nancy, and Thomas. 4. Catharine^. 5. Catharine, 
2d^, married Gilbert Tennent, M. D.; one son, John Tennent. 
6. NathanieP, married Maria Robinson, daughter of Col. 
John Robinson; died 1798; had Maria*^, and Nathaniel^. 7. 
Samuel^. 8. Samuel, 2d^, married and had Mary**, who 
married John Tennent, 9. Mary, 2d5, married Joseph 
Blackwell, and had children : (a) Harriet Blackwell, 
married William Howell, (b) Joseph, married Justina 
Bayard, (c) Frances, married Grant Forbes, (d) William 
Drayton Blackwell. 10. Joseph^, married Jane Moore, and 
had children : (a) Jane^. (b) Finch **. 11. Sarah ^, married 
David Judson, and had ; (a) Philander^ (b) David^ 12. 


Samuel Hazard^ (N^athaniel^, Jonathan^, Thomas^), born 
March 20, 1713-14 ; married, October, 1739, Catharine Clark- 
son ; died July 14, 1758; had seven children: 1. A 
daughter^, born dead, October 28, 1740. 2. Matthew^, born 
July 3, 1742; died July 15, 1742. 3. Ebenezer^, born 
January 15, 1744-5 ; married Abigail Arthur, September 11, 
1783 ; died June 13, 1817 ; had four children (see previous 
life of Ebenezer). 4. Anna^, born September 20, 1746 ; 
died of yellow fever October 18, 1793, aged 47 ;years. 5. 
Mary5,born January 16, 1750-1; married July 29, 1770, 
Cornelius Turk, of Nev/ York ; died June 21, 1772. 6. 
Elizabeth^, born November 2, 1755; married Joseph West, 
and had six children : (a) Webley, died unmarried, (b) 
John C, died unmarried, (c) Catharine, married Uriah 
Ryder, and had children, Uriah, Elizabeth, Abigail, Mary 
Ann, Rebecca, Joseph, Catharine, Phoebe, (d) Samuel 
West, married Catharine Bantz. (e) Abigail, married Jo- 
seph Giraud, and had children, Eliza Ann, Frederick, Jacob 
Post, Clarissa. (f) Ann, married Hugh Aikman. 7. 
Catharine Hazard^, born December 13, 1758. 

Thomas Hazard^ (^DanieU^ Thomas^, Jonathan^, Thom- 
as^), died in New York in 1787, aged 43 years. His four 
children were: 1. William Howard^, born 1770. 2. Charles 
Smiths, born 1772. 3. Frances S.«, born 1773. 4. Benja- 
min^, born 1774. 

Ebenezer Hazard^ (^Samuel*, Nathaniel^, Jonathan^, 
Thomas'^), h'dd four children; 1. Samuel^, born May 26, 
1784; married March 18,- 1819; died May 26, 1870; had 
nine children. 2. Elizabeth Breese«, born May 26, 1796; 
married Ebenezer Rock wood; had four children; married, 
second, Rev. Thomas E. Vermilye, D.D., and had five chil- 
dren. 3. Erskine^, born November 30, 1789; married Mary 
FuUerton, February 28,1822; died, February, 1865; had 
eight children. 4. Ebenezer Gordon^, born September 29, 
1792 ; died November 5, 1792. 


Samtjel Hazard^ (.Ebenezer^, Samuel^, Nathaniel^, Jona- 
than^, Thomas'^^, the histoiian ; maiiied Abbie Clark Het- 
field, March 18, 1819; and had nine children: 2. Abby^, 
born December 24, 1819; died September 27, 1827, aged 8 
years. 3. Elizabeth ", born November 6, 1821 ; married 
Waltei- Kerr Halsted ; died April 5, 1861 ; liad four children : 
(a) Elizabeth Wetherill, born May 19, 1846 ; died July 1, 
1846. (b) Kate, married Benjamin Shepard, and has two 
children, Benjamin Halsted, and William Ellison, (c) 
Walter Kerr, died December 26, 1853. (d) Samuel Hazard. 
4. Samuel^, born May 29, 1823; drowned May 22, 1834, 
aged 11 years. S.Willis Poi)e^ born July 22, 1825 ; married 
November 14, 1850 ; had five children: (a) Anna Shipley 8, 
born September 10, 1851 ; died March 12, 1853. (b) Vin- 
cent Gilpin^, born January 20, 1853. (c) Kate Hood^, born 
August 27, 1854. (d) Florence Naomi^, born July 24, 
1856. (e) Willis Hetfields, born July 29, 1866. 6. Maria 
Percy '^, born December 25, 1828 ; married William Veitch, 
December 30, 1869. 7. Spencer Halsted 7, born November 
25, 1830. 8. 'Emily 8, born September 25, 1832 ; died March 
6, 1867. 9. SamueP, born March 1, 1834 ; married June 1, 
1871 ; died January 10, 1876 ; had two children : (a) 
Spencers, born February 28, 1372. (b) Samuels, born 1874. 

Elizabeth Breese Hazard^ {^benezer^, Samuel^, 
Nathaniel^, Jonathan'^, Thomas^), born in New York, May 
26, 1786 ; married, first, September 9, 1807, by Dr. Ashbel 
Green, to Ebenezer Rockwood, of Boston, who was born 
June 2, 1781. He was graduated A. M. at Harvard, 1802, 
read law and settled in Boston, and died May 8, 1815, aged 
34 years. In his short career, he proved his possession of 
great talents, and address, and his high moral worth, even 
among his intimate associates in the highest circle of talent 
and refinement. He had dignity and intelligence, his intui- 
tions were quick and clear, his. knowledge was abundant, 
and he was noble, generous, and affectionate. At his early 
death he left four children : 1. Abigail Arthur, born 


September 16, 1808 ; resides in New York. 2. Ebenezer 
Hazard, born August 6, 1810 ; was graduated M. D. at Yale, 
1832; settled at Enfield, Mass.; married, first, on November 
7, 1832. Juliet Bliss, of West Springfield, who was born 
August 16, 1811, and died June 11, 1854. Their children 
were : (a) Ellen Louisa, born January 31, 1834, at Long 
Meadow, (b) Ebenezer Arthur, born January 6, 1839, at 
Enfield, (c) Charlotte Elizabeth, born February 3, 1842, 
at Enfield . (d) Charles Erskine, born June 20, 1847. 
Ebenezer married, second, Adelia O. Wilson, daughter of 
Ezekiel Smith, from Rehoboth. 3. William Erskine, born 
June, 1811 ; died unmarried in Havana, Cuba, 1835. 
4. Charles Greene, born July 19, 1814 ; formerly 
a banker in Mauch Chunk, Pa., and now cashier of 
the National Newark Banking Company; married June 
23, 1840, Sarah Smith, daughter of George B. Smith, 
of New York, and Joainia Vermilye, and had children : (a) 
William Erskine, born May 21, 1841 ; died July, 1842. (b) 
Charles Greene, born January 11, 1843. (c) Joanna Smith, 
born June 13, 1845. (d) Elizabeth Vermilye, born May 30, 
1848 ; died May 6, 1853. 

Elizabeth Breese Rock wood '' married, second, Rev. Thom- 
as E. Vermilye, D.D., of New York ; died January 12, 1861; 
and had five children: 1. Rev. Ashbel Green Vermilye. 2. 
Mary Montgomery Vermilye. 3. Elizabeth Breese Ver- 
milye. 4. Thomas Edward. 5. William W. 

Erskine Hazard*^ {Ebenezer^, Samuel^, Nathaniel^, Jon- 
athan^, Thomas^y son of Ebenezer and Abigail; born Novem- 
ber 30, 1789 ; married Mary FuUerton, daughter of Alex- 
ander Fullerton and Mary Hall, February 28, 1822 ; died 
February, 1865; and had eight children: 1. Alexander 
Fullerton 7, born August 13, 1824. 2. Erskine^ 3. Erskine', 
born October 11, 1828; at early manhood entered the army, 
served bravely in the Rebellion, and died, January 28, 1863, 
of wounds received at Fredericksburg. 4. Fisher'^, born Octo- 
ber 14, 1830 ; married February 7, 1854, Elizabeth, daughter 


of Rev. J. B. Clemson ; resides at Mauch Chunk ; and had 
<^ six children : Mary Fullerton^, John Clemson, Bessie Fisher, 
Erskine Hazard — dec'd — , Erskine Hazard, Ethel. 5. Albert 
Barnes', born December 3, 1832 ; married Mary Ann West, 
and had : (a) Harry Williamss, born December 12, 
1856. 6. Harry Williams^, born October 2Q, 1834; 
died in Rio Janeiro, Brazil, 1851. 7. Mary', born January 
15, 1836 ; married James S. Cox, June 25, 1857, and now 
resides in Orange, New Jersey. They have had nine chil- 
dren : Mary Hazard — born August 18, 1858 ; died April 26, 
1864, Martha Lyman, Fanny Hazard, Julia Biddle, John 
Lyman, Edith, Erskine Hazard, Alice, and Edward Ver- 
milye — born December 28, 1873. 8. Fanny '^, born Septem- 
ber 28, 1838 ; married Samuel N. Dickson June 5, 1867 ; and 
had two children : (a) Erskine Hazard, born February 26, 
1872. (b) Arthur Gillespie, born November, 1873. 

Genealogy and Memoir of the Sweet 


James Sweet ^, son of Isaac and Mary, came to America 
from Wales in 1630 ; settled at the foot of Ridge Hill in 
North Kingstown, Rhode Island, where the family burial 
ground is yet to be seen ; was made a freeeman in 1655 ; 
married Mary Green, daughter of the first John Green. 
Their children were : 1. Philip^, born July 15, 1655. 2. 
James^ born May 8, 1657. 3. Mary^, born February 2, 
1660. 4. Benoni2, born November 28, 1663. 5. Valentine2, 
born February 14, 1665. 6. Samuel^, born November 1, 
1667. 7. Jeremiah^, born January 6, 1669. 8. Renewed2, 
born July 18, 1671. 9. Sylvester^ born March 1, 1674. All 
the children of James and Mary Sweet were born in North 
Kingstown, Washington county, Rhode Island. 

Benoni SwEET2(Ja?ne«i), fourth child of James, married 

Elizabeth , and had children: 1. James^, born June 

28, 1688. 2. Margarets, born September 22, 1690. 3. Be- 
noni, Jr. 3, born March 23, 1692. 4. Mary 3, born December 
8, 1696. 5. Elizabeth^, born February 12, 1700. 6. Thom- 
as^, born August 12, 1703. All of the children of Benoni 
and Elizabeth Sweet were born in North Kingstown. 

James Sweet^ (Benoni^, James^}, married Mary , 

and had children : 1. Benoni*, born April 2, 1715. 2. 


Eben*. born June 5, 1716. 3. Mary*, born November 4, 
1717. 4. JamesS born December 4, 1719. 5. ElishaS born 
October 18, 1721. 6. Freelove*, born April 12, 1723. 7. 
Job-*, born December 1, 1724. 8. Elizabeth*, born May 13, 
1727. 9. Margaret*, born April 4, 1729. 

Job Sweet* (James^^ BenonP, Javnes^^, seventh child of 
James, married Jemima Sherman July 5, 1750, in South 
Kingstown, and had children : 1. Rufus^, born September 
8, 1753. 2. Jeremiah^, born November 7, 1754. 3. Gideon^, 
born April 11, 1758. 4. James^, born October 17, 1760. 5. 
Benoni^, born October 16, 1762. He was father of Stephen^, 
who was father of the present Charles Sweef^, bone-set- 
ter in Hartford, Conn. 6. Jonathan^, born September 6, 
1765. 7. Margarets, born December 4, 1767. 8. Lydia^, 
twin to Margaret. 9. Hannah ^ born April 3, 1770. 10. 
Sarah^, born April 4, 1774. 

Jonathan Sweet 5 (Job^,James^,Benoni'^,James^), bone- 
setter at Sugar Loaf Hill, South Kingstown ; married Sally, 
daughter of Thomas Sweet, and had children : 1. Job^, born 
1792. 2. Fanny6, born 1795. 3. Mary Ann^, born March 
28, 1798. 4. Williame, born October 25, 1802. 5. Sarah«, 
born July 3, 1807. 6. Jonathan^, born 1810. 

Job Sweet^ (Jonathan^ ^ Joh^^ James^y Benoni^, James')^, 
first son of Jonathan ; married Deborah Greenman, and had 
children: 1. James^. 2. Betsy^. 3. Jonathan'^. 4. 
Hannah''. 5. Susan '^. 

William Sweet ** (Jonathan^, Job^, James^, Benoni^, 
James'^), second son of Jonathan ; now bone-setter at Sugar 
Loaf Hill, South Kingstown; married Martha Tourgee, 
February 23, 1825, and had children : 1. Sarah ^ born No- 
vember 8, 1826. 2. Job 7, born October 13, 1828. 3. Wil- 
liam^ born November 8, 1830. 4. Thomas^ born March 10, 
1832. 5. Francess born October 1, 1834. 6. Jonathan^, 
born April 16, 1838. 7. Benoni", born September 23, 1840. 
8. Mary^ born May 13, 1844. 9. George', twin to Mary. 
10. Edward ^ born October 3, 1846. 


The above genealogical table was furnished me by the pres- 
ent Dr. Job Sweet, of New Bedford, Mass. 

There is a tradition in the Narragansett family of Sweets 
that their ancestors, including James the first immigrant to 
Rhode Island, had been long gifted by nature with the 
faculty of setting dislocated and broken bones. James 
rea-.ed a la-ge family of children, among whom was Benoni, 
who died at the age of ninety, June 19, 1751. To him a 
son James was born, June 18, 1688. This James and his 
father Benoni both possessed the "■' natural" gift of setting 
dislocated bones, but to what extent it was exercised is not 
definitely known. 

Job, the son of the secon d James, the first great " bone- 
setter," was horn December 1, 1724, and died on the farm 
now owned by Peleg Anthony and situated about a mile 
south of Narragansett Pier in Point Judith, Rhode Island. 

Updike, in his History of the Narragansett Church, page 
91, says : " James Sweet, the father of Benoni, emigrated 
from Wales to this country and purchased an estate at the 
foot of Ridge Hill— so called — , in North Kingstown, the same 
on which the late William Congdon lived and died. Benoni 
had been a captain in the British service, was well informed 
and of polished manners. He was a natural bone-setter and 
the progenitor of the race in Rhode Island. He was styled 
Doctor Sweet, but he practiced in restoring dislocations only. 
He was a regular communicant of the church, and officiated 
as a vestryman until his death, July 19, 1751. Says the re- 
cord, ' Died, Captain Benoni Sweet, of North Kingstown, in 
the 90th year of his age. Dr. MacSparran preached his funeral 
sermon, and buried him in the cemetery of his ancestors.' 

"Job, one of the family, obtained an eminent and wide- 
spread reputation as a bone-setter. During the Revolution 
he was called to Newport to set the dislocated bones of the 
French officers, an operation which their army surgeons were 
unable to perform. After the Revolutionary war, Colonel 
Burr, afterwards Vice President, invited him to New York, 


to restore the dislocated hipbone of his daughter, Theodosia, 
afterwards Mrs. Allston. In this operation, which had 
previously baffled the skill of the city surgeons, Dr. Sweet 
was successful. The fear of taking the small-pox deterred 
him from accepting Colonel Burr's invitation when first 
applied to; but this difficulty having been obviated, he em- 
barked in a Newport packet. 

"Dr. Sweet used to relate the adventure in this wise. 
That when he arrived in New York, Colonel Burr's coach 
was waiting at the wharf for his reception. Having never 
ridden in a coach he objected to being transported in a 
vehicle that was shut up. He was fearful of some trick, and 
farther, he did not like to ride in a thing over which he had 
no control, but fearing the small-pox he was induced to enter 
it. He said, he never was whirled about so in his life ; at 
last he was ushered into the most splendid mansion that he 
ever saw. The girl was alarmed at his appearance when he 
was invited into her chamber. The family surgeon was soon 
introduced, and he proposed that the operation should be 
performed the succeeding day, and ten o'clock was agreed 
upon, when other surgeons would attend. But Dr. Sweet 
meant to avoid their presence, if he could ; he did not fancy 
learned men. In the evening he solicited an interview with 
his patient ; talked with her familiarly, dissipated her fears, 
asked permission, in the presence of her father, just to let 
the old man put his hand upon her hip ; she consenting, he 
in a few minutes set the bone. He then said, ' Now walk 
about the room,' which to her own and her father's surprise, 
she found herself readily able to do. Dr. Sweet would detail 
the operation with great naivete. 

" He early in life moved to South Kingstown and settled 
near Sugar Loaf Hill, where some of his descendants in the 
fifth generation are in popular practice as natural bone- 
setters now [1847]. Benoni, one of the sons of Doctor Job, 
emigrated to Lebanon, in Connecticut, where he continued 
to practice, as some of his sons have since his decease. Num- 


bers yearly visit South Kingstown to have their dislocations 
replaced by the lineal descendants of the first Benoni, at 
their residence opposite Sugar Loaf Hill, near Wakefield." 

Spiritualists and clairvoyants of the present day under- 
stand something of the philosophy in accordance with the 
laws of which Dr. Job Sweet avoided the presence of the 
learned surgeons whilst he was performing his seemingly 
miraculous cure. We read that Jesus was compelled to 
"put them all out" who "laughed him to scorn," before the 
conditions could be sufficiently harmonized to enable him to 
restore the suspended vitality of the daughter of Jairus. 

Though totally unlearned in surgery, Dr. Job Sweet 
seldom, if ever, failed in his bone-restoring operations. Many 
characteristic anecdotes of him have been retained in the 
neighborhood. Among others, it is told that a skeptical 
young sprig of science — " falsely so called" — once sent for 
the doctor to set his dislocated elbow. The old man went 
and found his patient apparently in great pain, with his 
bandaged arm in a sling. He scarcely touched the limb, be- 
fore he discovered the trick and left. Dr. Job was, how- 
ever, overtaken on his way home by a messenger, who im- 
plored him to return and restore the young man's elbow 
joint, which had been really dislocated by the touch of the 
doctor's hand as a punishment for deceit. On another occa- 
sion, it is said, he was shown through an anatomical hall in 
Boston, by a city doctor. In glancing at a human specimen 
as they passed along the old man remarked that he had never 
seen a " tominy'' before, but that there was a little bone put 
in wrong side up in the foot of the one before him. This 
was for a time controverted by his learned friend, but he was 
ultimately forced to admit the correctness of the natural 
bone-setter's assertion after permitting him to change the 
position of the bone in question. 

Benoni, a son of Job, born October 17, 1762, removed to 
Lebanon, in Connecticut, where until his death he was very 
celebrated as a natural bone-setter. 


Jonathan, another son of Job, bora September 6, 1765, 
settled at Sugar Loaf Hill, near Wakefield, in Rhode Island, 
where he continued to reside until his death, about the year 
1820. I knew Jonathan well, and have been present when 
he restored dislocated and broken bones in members or em- 
ployes of my father's family. Once, when he was setting in 
my presence the thigh bone of a colored boy, I asked him to 
tell me how he did it. He answered that he did not know 
himself, but that he was just as certain of the position of all 
the bones he operated upon as if he saw them with his naked 
eye. Spiritualists will readily recognize this as clairvoyance, 
a gift that doubtless the Sweet family have been endowed 
with for many generations without being aware of it. 
Gideon, an elder brother, used occasionally to set bones when 
Jonathan was out of the way, but on no other occasions. 

Job, son of Jonathan, commenced setting bones on the 
death of his father, and acquired great renown. Both were 
blacksmiths, and it used to be said that when called from 
their work, as they often were, to restore shattered and dis- 
located limbs — the healing of some of which would have 
conferred a world-wide fame on any regularly bred surgeon- 
all either of them asked for the hindrance was just change 
enough to pay them for the time lost in shoeing a horse or 
o^her work in the shop. 

I remember well when a young Boston lawyer by the name 
of Warner, a friend of Daniel Webster, who had suffered 
much at the hands of the first surgeons in America without 
relief, was brought to South Kingstown, to try, as a forlorn 
hope, the unlearned and unpretentious Job Sweet. I do not 
know but this gentleman may be now living in Boston. I 
think his ailment was of a complicated nature, located in the 
leg, which had been aggravated by maltreatment, and had 
become so chronic that it could be overcome only by a very 
slow and gradual process of treatment. For this reason he 
boarded in or near Sweet's family, and occasionally visited 
my father's house, who lived at that time within a mile. On 


thesfi occasions he always dwelt with great enthusiasm upon 
the remarkable powers possessed by Sweet, as not only 
evinced in the gradual but sure process of restoring his own 
limb to soundness, but also as e xemplified in his successful 
treatment of other patients who were brought to him. 
Among others he used to speak of the case of a boy, I think 
by the name of Day, who came from some point on the North 
River. As he described it, this boy's leg was void of flesh-- 
and as straight and hard as " his walking stick," the joints 
being stiffened and immovable through the presence of ossi- 
fied matter. Sweet examined the boy's leg in the presence 
of Warner, and the latter remarked : " You certainly can do 
nothing with that leg, for there are no joints in it." "Then," 
replied the doctor, '" I must make some." And sure enough, 
by the application of certain vegetable emollients and lini- 
ments — in the compounding of which all of the Sweets seem 
to be intuitively directed — and frequent manipulations of the 
leg, the ossification was gradually loosened and expelled, so 
that the joints assumed their natural play, and the leg be- 
came again clothed in flesh. 

Mr, Warner evinced much gratitude for the restoration of 
his own limb, and persuaded the doctor to remove to Boston, 
where there was an unlimited field for the exercise of his 
wonderful gift. But, owing probably to his different mode 
of living. Job did not long survive the change, and died in 
that city about the year 1827. 

On the removal of Job to Boston, William, his brother, 
born October 28, 1802, who has always resided where he now 
does, at the homestead at Sugar Loaf Hill, commenced in the 
bone-setting line, but in accordance with the usages of the 
family, whereby only one of its members habitually practices 
in a neighborhood at the same time, he gave way to his 
brother John, son of Gideon, who had relinquished farming 
that he might devote his whole time to the business of bone- 
setting. After a time John removed to New Bedford, and 


William resumed bone-setting in South Kingstown, and has 
probably been as successful in his calling as any one of the 

Like all of his ancestors, he has reared a large family of 
children. Job, his eldest son, is now a skillful bone-setter, 
piacticing in New Bedford and its vicinity. George, a 
younger son, lives with Job, and sets bones when his brother 
is away. William N. Sweet, another son of William, lives 
with Job, but practices principally in Boston, Fall River, 
and their vicinities. He, too, is said to be very successful in 
his calling. Jonathan, another son, lives in Providence, 
where he practices bone-setting with great success. Thomas, 
another son, also practiced in Providence for ten years, until 
his death in 1867. Edward, } oungest son of William, lives 
in the homestead at Sugar Loaf, and occasionally sets bones 
when his father is absent. 

Jonathan Sweet, son of the last named Job and grandson 
of William, practices bone-setting successfully in Newark, 
N. J. James, also a son of Job, and Samuel, son of Gideon, 
now both living in South Kin gstown, inherit the gift, and 
occasionally, in cases of necessity, replace dislocated and brok- 
en bones. 

I have heard of instances wherein persons of the same 
name, who are not allied to the family of bone-setters, have 
professed to practice the Sweets' profession. Of course, the 
genuine bone-setters are not responsible for the failures of 
their imitators. 

I have known Doctor William Sweet from boyhood, and 
have been present several times when he has restored 
broken and dislocated bones for employes or members of my 
own family, and although some of these were very com- 
plicated and bad, he always treated them successfully, and 
in no instance ever had to repeat an operation. He has been 
called during his practice to hundreds, and no doubt thou- 
sands, of injured persons, and yet he assured me a few days 
since that he had never had a patient die on his hands. On 


my asking what cases he had treated lately, he replied, 
■' None of account." This expression he applied to simple 
fractures, dislocations and broken bones, which he restored 
without trouble, and for which he received but little pay. I 
asked him to narrate to me some of the cases he had treated 
that he thought wei-e of " account." He mentioned several, 
and among them these which I now relate, as he told them 
to me. 

" Several years ago Joh n Moon was caught by a belt in 
Reynolds' factory in West Greenwich, and thrown over a 
drum through a space eight inches deep. His hips and 
whole frame were all mashed up in a heap: his knees were 
both out of joint, and stretched so that his legs hung like 
threshing flails ; one arm broken, the other badly damaged. 
Put him together so that he got about, and after awhile went 
to work again. Saw him some years after. He was then 
pretty well, but not exactly straight, as I could not get 
everything just as it was before he was broken to pieces so. 

"■ Whitman Phillips went over a drum in Dutee Hall's fac- 
tory in Exeter ; had one arm broken and both badly damag. 
ed ; had both thighs broken, and both legs below the knee 
broken short off. Two doctors got there before me, and had 
just finished sawing off one arm. I fixed up what was left 
of him in about six hours, and could just as well have saved 
his arm. The young man got well, but has now to peddle 
for a living, owing to the loss of his arm. Dutee Hall sat 
by and cried while I was fixing Phillips up, and said I was 
doing God's work. 

" George Church got caught in the running gear of the 
Locustville factory, now called Hopedale, in Richmond. 
Both legs were broken, both above and below the knee, and 
fractured and lacerated badly besides. He was also badly 
injured inside. I put him all right, however, and healed 
him up ; and he is now well, and carting wood and doing 
other work for a living. 


" Michael Flaherty caught by a belt in the factory at 
Wakefield, his leg was turned clean round and spaltered 
from the knee, and the bone left naked down to the ankle. 
The bone was split, and lay like splinters on the flesh. I put 
the pieces all in their places and worked on him with my 
liniments and washes off and on about nine or ten months, 
when he went to work, and is now well ; but I got nothing 
for it. 

" A man by the name of Mirick, a cooper from Nantuck- 
et, smashed his wrist all to pieces. Doctor Warren and 
other doctors worked on him till his wrist got stiff and cold 
through ossification. WJien he came to me he said I might 
put a live coal on his arm and he would not feel it. I went 
to work, and after a while broke it all up, and got the blood 
to circulate, and then put all the bones in their places again, 
and nature soon did the rest, so that his wrist was about as 
good as ever." 

The doctor told me that in making his liniments, decoc- 
tions, etc., for washes, he uses, with the exception of alcohol, 
but little besides barks, herbs and vegetables, such, in fact, 
as an apothecary would say could be found almost anywhere, 
and therefore could be of no value to medical science. The 
simple but yet all but perfect art the Sweets possess, to stay 
and reduce inflammation, relax the sinews and muscles and 
prevent mortification, is quite as remarkable as their extra- 
ordinary intuitive gift of setting bones. 

In instances where these "natural bone setters" have been 
called to patients who have suffered intense agony through 
fruitless attempts to replace a joint by means of ropes and 
pulleys, and other violent malpractices, they liave, by the 
skillful application of their simple emollients and laxatives 
and soothing manipulation of the hand, removed the inflam- 
mation and tension of the parts and replaced the bone with 
little comparative effort on the part of the operator, or pain 
on that of the patient. 


I am aware that many readers will think the facts I have 
given are exaggerated. If such will take a trip by rail to 
the town of South Kingstown, where such things have been 
doing for a century and more past, and inquire among the 
old settlers of that town of the cures that have been made by 
the Sweet family, I think they will learn that but a very 
small part of these most wonderful performances have been 

In further illustration of the remarkable healing powers 
possessed by the Sweet family of Narragansett, I append the 
following extracts in addition to those from the New Bed- 
ford Star, taken from a pamphlet of 124 pages which the 
writer compiled in 1876, entitled " Civil and Religious Per- 
secution in the State of New York," published by Colby & 
Rich, Boston. In that State, as in many others, the organiz- 
ed medical societies have recently succeeded in obtaining the 
enactment of laws making it a misdemeanor for natural bone- 
setters and clairvoyant healers to practice their professions, 
punishable with fine and impi'isonnient. This includes those 
who heal by the laying on of hands — a mode of cure not 
only prescribed but enjoined upon his disciples by Jesus of 

In consequence of the existence and enforcement of these 
laws the Sweets, and other natural healers of human infirmi- 
ties, can no longer practice their benign gifts in New York 
with safety to themselves, and many have in consequence 
been compelled to forego their calling or abandon their homes 
and flee the State — in some instances that have come to the 
writer's knowledge — greatly to their pecuniary detriment. 
A further movement is now pending in the New York legis- 
lature to intensify the requirements of the law to meet the 
inroads that the natural healers are still making upon the 
practice and profits of the regular diplomated physicians. 

I well knew the blacksmith, Jonathan Sweet, of Sugar 
Loaf Hill — a son of Job — , who seldom left home but on ex- 


traoidinary occasions, and who, when patients were brought 
to him whose cases had perhaps in some instances baffled the 
skill of the most renowned doctors, was wont to ask the cus- 
tomer whose horse was left only partly shod, to excuse him 
a few minutes whilst he put the stranger to rights. Having 
done this he would charge his patient a pistareen or quarter 
for the loss of time incurred by the interruption, and return 
to finish his more important job of shoeing the horse. 

Jonathan's son, William, is quite as skillful as his father. 
On one occasion I remember sending for William to an adja- 
cent hay field, where he was at work for a neighbor, to set the 
wrist of a boy who had been thrown from his horse. This 
he did in an instant, after the bandages had been prepared. 
I supposed the work was completed ; " not quite," said the 
doctor, as he pressed his thumb on the back of the boy's 
hand, and replaced with a snap a little bone that had been 
also disarranged in the fall. This he no doubt detected 
through his clairvoyant gift. 

Again, I sent for him to restore the displaced collar 
bone of a daughter. I then lived many miles away, and as 
the doctor did not arrive until over twenty-four liours after 
the accident happened, my daughter's sufferings had become 
exceedingly acute. When Sweet arrived he evidently com- 
prehended the exact difficulty g,t a glance, doubtless not by 
his external, but by his internal, vision, and replaced the bone 
at one touch of his hands, so that after being bandaged and 
carried in a sling for a few weeks the shoulder was made ap- 
parently as sound as ever. 

On another occasion a boy of seven or eight years of age, 
who lived with his mother in my family, by falling from the 
back of a donkey had his aim broken above the elbow. I 
sent at once for William Sweet. It was a very bad break, 
and the wound was much lacerated. The end of the fractur- 
ed bone was easily felt, and I think, was to be seen. The 
v/eather being hot the arm had swelled to fully twice its 


usual dimensions before Sweet arrived, one or two days after 
the accident. I was absent for a few hours at that time, and 
on my return home learned that the boy's arm had been set, 
splintered and bandaged, and that the bone-setter was assist- 
ing my workmen in the hay field. I found by inquiry that 
after Sweet's arrival he glanced at the arm, and then went 
out in the grounds in search of wild cherry and some other 
barks or roots- With these he made a compound wash, that 
quickly reduced the inflammation and swelling so that he 
could set the bone. The boy was wilful, and to restrain him 
within proper bounds, we shut him in a long entry. But the 
next day he got out of this through an open window, and 
thenceforward continued to run at large with his arm in a 
sling. In a fevy weeks, however, the bones knit, and he was 
as well as ever, without the slightest disfigurement. 

At this time the doctor went with me to see Thomas Dur- 
fee, an old man who occupied one of my tenements and one 
of whose hands was disabled. He had shown the injured 
member to many physicians, but none of them could detect 
anything out of place. Sweet fixed his eyes momentarily on 
the back of the old man's hand, then putting his fingers on 
the palm, he gently pressed his thumb on the back, above 
where the forefinger joined, and told the old man to open 
and shut his hand. This he at once did, and continued to 
use it ever after as well as the other. In explanation Sweet 
said that there was a little bone somewhere in the hand so 
slightly raised and set out of its proper place on edge, that it 
was very difficult to perceive it through the sense of either 
sight or touch. 

r.esides the bone-setting gifts the Sweet family possess in a 
remarkable degree another faculty scarcely less wonderful — 
that of compounding liniments or washes from the roots and 
barks that are to be found in almost every neighborhood, and 
which are highly efficacious in reducing inflammation and 
swellings and in preventing mortification. 


Some forty or more years ago, as Mr. Samuel Curtis, of 
Peace Dale, was proceeding to a raanufactoiy of mine with 
a heavily laden ox-team, he was thrown from the tongue of 
the cart upon a rough, stony place in the road, so that a wheel 
passed over and crushed his thigh bone, besides dreadfull}' 
bruising and lacerating the flesh. He was brought home, a 
distance of some five or more miles, and it was thought that 
no treatment could save his limb, if peradventure it might 
his life. Dr. "Bill Sweet." however, was sent for, and 
after washing and ynopping the wound in his accustomed fash- 
ion with vegetable decoctions, he put all the bones in place, 
and splintered them with sole leather. Under his care, not- 
withstanding the summer heat that prevailed, inflammation 
was kept down and mortification entirely prevented. After 
lying on his back in bed a few weeks the sufferer was again 
walking about, and it was not long before he was seen on 
the road with his team, as well as ever, witli the exception 
of a trifling limp, occasioned by the slight shortening of tht 
limb— the result of the tension of the tendons and muscles 
while the broken and shattered bones were in the process of 
knitting together. Curtis died not long since, aged about 
eighty years, as liberal in mind and as highly respected as 
4ny man in the neighborhood. 

A striking peculiarity of the older branches of the Sweet 
family is their utter unconsciousness of the magnitude of 
the cures they perform. Exploits of healing that if done by 
regular practitioners would place them in the foremost rank 
of the profession, and give them a world-wide reputation, 
ire accomplished by the Sweets without its apparently enter- 
ing their minds that they have done anything worthy of 
especial note. I have been amused to hear the old man Wil- 
liam Sweet's narrations of some of the most remarkable cures 
that were perhaps ever performed by man, for which he 
claimed no more credit than he might have done for merely 
setting a broken bone of the finger. 


Since writing the above, T liave received a letter, dated 
February 7, 1876, from a lady who resides near Pittsfieldi 
Mass., in which she incidentally mentions this circumstance. 
" Mr. Olmstead, who lives not far from us, had not long- 
since his shoulder all crushed to pieces by the fall of a cask 
of molasses which he was steadying down a gangway. He 
went to a doctor in Pittsfield, and when he left his care at 
the end of some weeks, the arm had grown to his side, so that 
the flesh was continuous, and the arm, of course, utterly use- 
less. Olmstead then went down to Dr. Sweet at Hartford, 
who cut the flesh, re-broke the bones and re-set them, so 
that the arm, though somewhat disabled, does not prevent 
his leading a very active life, besides following his trade as a 
butcher." Dr. Sweet, of Hartford, is a descendant of old Job 
Sweet of Narragansett. It is well for him that he is not locat- 
ed in New York instead of Connecticut, as in that case the 
M. D. of Pittsfield might be after him with a sheriff's posse, 
and have him before a New York court of justice, to be fined 
and imprisoned for interfering with the privileges of the pro- 
fession, nor could Sweet avoid conviction, as the law stands 
on the statute book. 

It is not long ago that while passing with a stone-drag 
through a gateway, a very near neighbor of mine caught his 
foot between it and the post, and dislocated the gieat toe. 
As small aii affair as it might be deemed, the M. D. that was 
called to his aid managed to inflict in one or more bungling 
operations an untold amount of anguish on his patient, with- 
out succeeding in moving the member from the upright posi- 
tion it had been thrown into by the accident. Finding that 
he could get no relief at the hands of the regular M. D., the 
sufferer finally applied to Dr. Sweet, of Fall River, a lineal 
descendant of old Job Sweet, who put the bones of the toe in 
their proper places in a \ery short time, and with but little 


David J. Gould, of Newport, R. I,, furnishes the folio win or 
facts relating to the Sweet family. 

" Thomas N. Dale, of New York City, in passing from one 
car to another in Pennsylvania, just on the turn of a curve, 
was thrown off the cars and fell clear off the track, having 
his wrist and ankle broken and his shoulder started in the 
socket so as to break the cell containing the lubricating 
matter. Of course, he had no use whatever of his arm, and 
was not able even to lift it from his side. Mr. Dale was 
taken to the first station, where a surgeon set his ankle and 
wrist, but could do nothing for his shoulder. When he re- 
covered sufficiently to be moved, Mr. Dale was brought to 
Newport and placed under the care of Dr. William Sweet, of 
Sugar Loaf Hill, Narragansett, who after several operations 
removed the ossification that had formed in the cup of the 
joint, and in a few weeks the patient was completely restor- 
ed to his usual health and bodily powers. 

" Amos R. Little, of Philadelphia, was accidentally thrown, 
and fell with his whole weight on his right shoulder. He 
was immediately placed under Dr. Pancoast's care, who 
treated him for several weeks without any visible benefit. 
The arm gradually wasted and became much smaller than 
the other it was entirely helpless and carried constantly in 
a sling. Or. Pancoast said that he had done all he could, 
but proposed as a forlorn hope to cauterize it. A day was 
set on which the operation should be performed. In the 
meantime Mr. Gould had written his friend Little, recom- 
mending him to come to Newport and put himself under the 
care of Dr. Sweet, of Fall River — a son of W^illiam. Mr. 
Little received the letter on the day that Dr. Pancoast had 
concluded to make the cauterizing operation, and immedi- 
ately left Philadelphia for Newport. On his arrival, accom. 
panied by Mr. Gould he proceeded to Fall River, and placed 
liimselt under the care of Dr. Sweet, who, no sooner examin- 
ed the shoulder than he told what the trouble was — that the 


cell containing the lubricating matter was broken and the 
joint was filling with a fungus-like substance that oozed there- 
from. Dr. Sweet went to work on his patient's arm and 
shoulder, and followed it up for about seven days, one hour 
each day. At the end of that time Mr. Little could use his 
arm and throw it around his head. He then returned to 
Philadelphia to keep his appointment with Dr. Pancoast. 
He went at the hour appointed to the doctor's office, and 
greeted him by putting out his right arm and shaking hand«. 
at which Dr. Pancoast started and exclaimed, ' What in God's 
name have you been doing to your arm !' Mr. Little told 
him that Dr. Sweet, of Fall River, had been operating on it 
lor the week past with the result he now witnessed. Dr 
Pancoast said he would like to see Dr. Sweet, for he had made 
a marvelous cure and one that he could not have accomplish- 
ed under any circumstances." 

Mr. Gould further said that whilst Sweet was attending 
on his brother-in-law Little a patient applied for aid who said 
he had spent nearly all he had on doctors, trying to help his 
arm without their doing any good. The doctor examined it 
about fifteen minutes, and then said the injury must have 
been caused by his frequent pushing of some weight above 
his head, suiting the action at the time to the word. The 
man then said that he was a peddler, and had been accus- 
tomed for a long time to take a heavy box from overhead in 
the back of his wagon, and replace it again, after his cus 
tomers had been served. Mr. Gould said that after a few 
weeks' treatment by Dr. Sweet this man's arm was entirely 
restored. "^ 

Since the preceding account of the Sweet family appeared 
m the Newport Mercury and the Narragansett Times, 1 have 
received from my brother, Joseph P. Hazard, a letter dated 
Pans October 12, 1878, and containing the following addi- 
tional particulars in relation to the family. 

"Li the autumn of 1828 or 1829, in jumping, I so severelv 


injured the joint of my right knee that I was unable to bring 
my heel down and could walk at all only by touching my toes 
lightly to the ground. The least pressure produced pain in 
the injured part. After some days of suffering finding that 
I got no better, I went to Newport and consulted that most 
kind and excellent physician and surgeon, the late Dr. Enoch 
Hazard. Upon examination of the part he told me there 
was a displacement of the semi-lunar cartilage, and that but 
one case of the kind, as far as he knew, had ever occurred 
in the United States. The doctor then brought a book from 
his library in which he showed me the printed account of the 
case he referred to, and said it was at the time decided by a 
college of physicians — though, I think, perhaps a council — 
that the semi-lunar cartilage had got doubled under itself, so 
as to act as a wedge in the joint and thereby prevent the 
straightening of the limb, and that it was beyond the power 
of surgery to replace it, though peradventure an accident to the 
part might do so ! 

" I then proceeded to Dr. William Turner, a noted physi- 
cian and surgeon of Newport, who took the same view of the 
case as Dr. Hazard. I then went to Providence, where I 
consulted Dr. -Parsons. He coincided in opinion with 
Doctors Hazard and Turner. I will here remark that I was 
then about twenty-one years of age, that every one of the 
physicians named gave his opinion without any knowledge of 
the case until I presented it myself, and no one of them made 
any charge. 

" I returned to Narragansett much disheartened. From 
the first my father had counseled and urged me to send for 
John Sweet, a natural bone-setter who lived within half a 
mile of us. This I finally consented to do. About dark the 
same evening John Sweet was ushered from the kitchen into 
our sitting-room, where father and I were seated by the fire. 
As Sweet entered I perceived he was somewhat under the 
influence of liquor, though Jie, wtis not an intemperate man, 


but ail honest, hard-working tenant farmer. As the door 
closed after him Sweet said, ' Mr. Hazard, I heard this morn- 
ing that you wanted to see me, but I have been very busy 
all day, and so have come over now. If you want me to do 
any thing I would like you to be ready soon, as I have not 
yet finished my chores and am somewhat in a hurry to get 

" I was greatly alarmed lest Sweet's condition, if nothing 
else, might be a dangerous factor in the case, and made no 
reply. My father strove to reassure me and said ' Joseph, 
let John set it.' I pretty promptly yielded to father's re- 
quest. Sweet then knelt down before me and, taking my 
foot with the hollow of his hand beneath it, twisted it so as 
to turn the toes outward somewhat. He then pressed the 
part just above the injured knee with his other hand and with 
a sudden, quick movement of my foot in a proper direction 
brought the heel of the foot in contact with the lower por- 
tion of my body, which motion he repeated three times in 
quick succession. Sweet then rose from the floor and told 
me to walk. I replied that I could not without its hurting 
me. He answered that he was sure my heel would now reach 
the ground as usual, and that I could walk as well as ever ex- 
cept that the knee would be very weak, which he would at 
once bandage and send me an ointment to heal it. To my 
great surprise I accordingly got up and walked about the 
room as well as ever, save that a feeling of great weakness 
prevailed in the joint. Sweet applied the bandage and sent 
me the ointment, which I used as directed, and in a few days 
I was about as usual except that the joint did not recover its 
usual strength for some weeks, if it ever has entirely to the 
present day. Some weeks after this I met Sweet in the road 
.ind asked him what I should pay him for his services. ' Mr. 
Hazard, 'said he ' I must charge you a pretty big price, for 
most of the bones I set are for poor people for which I charge 
nothing. So I must ask two dollars for your job.' 


"I asked Sweet why it was that he always took a drink of 
liquor before he set a bone. He replied that it was 'to harden 
my heart, as I cannot bear to hurt people.' I suppose, how- 
ever, that a more potent reason may have been that the 
spiritual influence is facilitated by a little stupefying of the 
physical senses, although he may not have been aware of it. 

"In the year 1831 or 1832, our father, then living at 
Washington Hollow, Dutchess county, New York, was thrown 
violently from a ' Dearborn,' and falling forward dislocated 
or broke nearly all the bones in the back of one hand. He 
was then nearly seventy years of age. He was attended by 
a local physician, and the hand soon healed apparently, but 
was of little service to him. Some months after the accident 
he came to Narragansett and stayed at brother Isaac's house 
n Peace Dale, where I was also dwelling. Our cousin, Wil- 
'iam R. Peace, of Philadelphia, was then spending some time 
with us. Father had determined to call on Job Sweet, then 
the senior bone-setter in Narragansett, and proposed that my 
cousin William and myself should go with him. I shrank 
from the trial that would have followed my acceptance of 
father's invitation, but Mr. Peace, who had heard a great 
deal of the ' natural bone-setters of Narragansett,' gladly 
accepted the proffered opportunity to witness their mode of 

"In the course of a very few hours father and Willian: 
Peace both returned, and a more amazed man than the latter 
I never saw. It seems that on their arrival at Sweet's 
house — rather more than a mile from Peace Dale — they learn- 
ed from Job's son, a lad of about seventeen years of age, that 
liis father had been called to a distant case of broken or dis- 
.ocated bones, and would not be home for some days to come, 
' but,' said the boy, " I can fix that hand as well as my fa- 
ther can.' ! Strange to say our father consented that the lad 
should try. The boy then examined the hand, and said that 
the bones had all knit together but had not been set right. 


■•But,' said he, 'I can soon fix that.'' He then re-broke the 
bones, that had proved nearly useless though healed, and re- 
set them all in their proper places. Father made daily visits 
to Sweet, and erelong the fractures and dislocations were all 
restored and the hand healed, so as to become almost as 
supple and useful as it was before the accident, and it so 
continued during the remainder of his life. 

" Many years ago I was spending a few weeks at Town- 
send's Hotel in Newport, R. I. Lieutenant William Griffin, 
U. S. Navy, was stopping there at the time, also Captain 
Gedne}^ of the U. S. Navy, a good specimen of a good South 
Carolinian. We three were much together, and one day I 
took a walk with Captain Gedney down to Rocky farm. In 
getting over a wall Gedney sprained his ankle so badly thau 
even with my assistance it was with great difficulty he got 
back to the hotel. I suggested that he send to Narragansett 
for one of the Sweets, but he decided to employ a regular 
surgeon of high reputation, who decided that his ankle was 
only sprained and treated it accordingly. Captain Gedney 
was^ thereafter confined to his chamber, where I saw him 
daily. Two weeks had passed but he got no relief under the 
surgeon's treatment, but he still declined to send for John 
Sweet, when I occasionally suggested it to him. One day 
as I left the dinner table, I observed John Sweet at the bar 
of the hotel taking a glass of liquor. I asked him to go with 
me up-stairs, and he followed me to Captain Gedney's 
room. Thus confronted, Captain Gedney without hesitation 
consented that Sweet should look at his sprained ankle. 
Said Sweet, "It is out of joint, but I can set it in a minute." 
Sweet then asked me to stand behind the captain, who as 
usual was sitting in his arm-chair, and hold him forward as 
hard as I could. I accordingly put my arms around the cap- 
tain and braced myself. Sweet got down on his knees, and, 
placing the sole of Captain Gedney's foot against his own 
shoulder, he gave a tremendous heave forward, that nearly 


sent Captain Gedney and myself over backward. Sweet 
without further ado told Captain Gedney to get up and walk 
The latter hesitated to try an experiment in which he had 
no faith, but finally did as he was bid and got up and walk- 
ed across the room without aid. That same evening Cap- 
tain Gedney walked half a mile to visit his friend, Miss 
Lawrence, daughter of Commodore Lawrence ; and he after- 
wards told me more than once that if he ever met with a 
like accident though he was as far off as the South Seas, no 
one should treat him until he got back to John Sweet. 

"Of the William Sweet who is now living in Wakefield— 
an old man — I have to say, that happening to see him some 
twenty years ago at Peace Dale with a bandana bundle un- 
der his arm, I supposed he might have been called to a dis- 
tance, and I asked him where he had been. He replied 
that he was on his way back from the island of Rhode Island 
where he had been to set a man's arm which had been brok 
en by a fall from a hay-mow. I asked him what he charged 
for such a visit. 'Why,' said he, 'I have been very unlucky' 
In going I was detained all night and most of the next day 
on Conanicut by bad weather, and I got over so late I was 
obliged to stop all night at a tavern in Newport. Then J 
had to walk six miles out of town to fix the man's arm, and 
to stay another night on the island. And now,' says he 'it is 
nearly sundown again and I have not got home yet. So I 
had to charge him pretty bad — eight dollars!' Out of eight 
dollars were to be deducted four ferry fares from forty to 
sixty cents, and two tavern bills for supper, lodging antl 
breakfast, to say nothing of four days lost time and twenty- 
one miles traveled on foot ! " 

" Many years ago I was talking with this same William 
Sweet about the mysteries of his bone-setting faculty, and 
I asked him how he explained it. This he said he could not 
do, but said he, 'Why, Mr. Hazard, I see the bone I am 
going to set just as plainly as if it had no flesh on it. I say I 


see it, but, of course, I do not see it.' Now here i^i clair- 
voyance, plainly enough, before it had ever been heard of as 
such. Sweet had no language to explain his mysterious gift 
except such as he used ; and having no conception of the 
possibilities of clairvoyant seeing, he had no words at his 
command to give expression to what he saw with his inter- 
nal or spiritual vision, but was not reflected on his exteinal 
sense or instrument of sight. 

"The Sweets have been numerous in Narragansett for 
several generations, and are a remarkably innocent people. I 
never heard of any one of them committing any violence iv 
any way, nor anything against any of them which I can 
recollect ; certainly, not against any of the numerous 'bone- 
setters.' With two exceptions only, as far as I have ever 
known or heard they have always been, and still are, void of 
avarice, or any inordinate desire to be known, much less dis- 
tinguished. They are for the most part industrious farmers- 
mechanics, laborers, and fishermen, all of them in humble 
circumstances but none in poverty. Without ambition, 
they are respected by all ; without wealth, they are comfort- 
ably situated, almost to a man. Their gentleness and quiet 
demeanor seem to be universal characteristics of the family. 
They are temperate except those who make bone-setting 
their most prominent occupation, and those resort to liquor — 
probably as a stimulant to the interior senses — only when 
immediately engaged in the line of their profession. They 
seem to be as distinct from the communities about them in 
their general character as they are in their peculiar gift of 
bone-setting. They are children, as it were, and as guileless." 

Those versed in the principles that govern in spiritualism 
both ancient and modern may best understand that it is the 
harmonious conditions induced by the simplicity and unam- 
bitious character of the Sweet family and their freedom 
from the lust of avarice and the desire to be distinguished, 
that for so many successive generations have made them the 


father's recipients and instruments for beneficent minister- 
ing spirits to use in signally ameliorating so large a class of 
the most serious accidents that are liable to befall suffering 


Isaac P. Hazard ) 

Eliza G. " I Newport, R. I Fifty copies. 

Anna " ) 

Thomas R. Hazard Vaucluse, R. I Fifty copies. 

jXiI^'n ^H^ard'^'^ \ ^^"""^ ^""^^^ ^- ^ ^'^^^ ''"P'^^- 

Rowland Hazard Peace Dale, R. I Fifty copies. 

Joseph P. Hazard South Kings'town, R. I Ten " 

Willis P. Hazard Westchester, Pa " " 

Stephen Hazard Ferrisburgh, Vt Seven " 

Samuel L. Hazard West Castleton, Vt Five " 

George H. Wilson Newport, R. I . '■ " 

George P. Hazard Providence, R. I Four " 

Mrs. Anna H. B. Ward New York " " 

Jacob Bunnell Pawtucket, R. I Three " 

Mrs. Lloyd Minturn Ferrisburgh, Vt '' " 

Edwin Noyes Waterville, Me " " 

George C. Robinson, Jr Brooklyn, N. Y " "" 

Jeremiah P. Robinson " " " " 

Andrew P. Bashf ord Newport, R. I Two " 

William W. Battey Providence, R. I " " 

James C. Dillon Narragansett Pier, R. I " " 

J. R. G. Hassard New York " " 

Mrs. L. L. Hazard Newport, R. I " " 

Dr. David King " " " " 

Attraore Robinson Wakefield, " " " 

J. Peace Vernon San Francisco, Cal " " 

Benjamin S. Babcock Wakefield, R. I One " 

George A. Armstrong Newport, R. I " " 

George H. Babcock Pennsylvania " " 

Mary E. Babcock Liberty Hill, Conn " " 

Mrs. James Birckhead Newport, R. I " " 

J. M. Bokee ^ Brooklyn, N. Y " " 

G. A. Boyce Rensselaer, N. Y " " 

Rev. Charles T. Brooks Newport, R. I " " 

Arnold L. Burdick " " " " 

Col. Thomas L. Casey U. S. A., Washington " " 

Mrs. Wm. G. Caswell Narragansett Pier, R. I " " 

Raymond Chappell Wakefield, R. I " " 


Wendall Chappell Wakefield, R. I One copy 

Joseph J. Cooke Providence, R. I 

John B. Cozzens Newport, R. I 

Benjamin R. Curtis Peace Dale, R. I 

Mrs. George L. DeBlois San Francisco, Cal 

Alice Dixon Peace Dale, R. I 

William D. Frost Hammonton, N. J 

John E. Groil Boston, Mass 

Miss Abby Hazard Peace; Dale, R. I 

Anthony Hazard Providence, " 

Benjamin Hazard Newport, " 

Charles L. Hazard Watchemoket, " 

Charles T. Hazard Newport, " 

Daniel Hazard Wakefield, " 

Daniel L. Hazard Newport, " 

Edward W. Hazard Chicago, 111 

Emily L. Hazard Newport, R. I 

Franks. Hazard " " 

George A. Haaard " " 

George B. Hazard " " 

George J. Hazard " " 

George M. Hazard " " 

Henry B. Hazard " " 

H. S. Hazard " " 

James Hazard Providence, " 

James L. Hazard Newport, " 

Jeffrey Hazard Providence," 

Mary W. Hazard Newport, " 

Rufus Hazard No. Fen-isburgh, Vt 

R. N. Hazard New York 

Simeon Hazard Newport,R. I 

T. D. Hazard Brooklyn, N. Y 

Thomas G. Hazard Narragansett Pier, R. I 

William C. Hazard Cranston, R. I 

Dr. William H. Hazard Wakefield, " 

Thomas R. Hubbard Brooklyn, N. Y 

Mary Roach Hunter Kane Newport, R. I 

Horace Knowles, Marcellus, N. Y 

Mrs. Minkler Newport, R. I 

J. F. Noyes, M. D Detroit, Mich 

Jeremiah Quinlan Peace Dale, R. I 

E. A. Robinson Chicago, 111 

George C. Robinson Brooklyn, N. Y 

George T. Robinson Milwaukee, Wis 

J. P. Robinson New York 

Robert A. Robinson Providence, R. I 



Rowland T. Robiuson Ferrisburgh, Vt One copy 

Thomas Robinson Pawtucket, R. I 

Thurston R. Robinson Providence, " 

WiUiam H. Robinson South Kingstown, R. I 

Wilham H. Robinson Wakefield, R. I 

Robert Rodman Lafayette, " 

Mrs. George W. Sanford Newport, " 

Hon. Wilham P. Sheffield " " 

Mary A. Sherman Providence, " 

Benj. R. Smith Germantown, Pa 

Hazard Stevens Boston, Mass 

Benjamin C. Sweet Hamilton, R. I 

Gilbert Sweet New York 

James D. Sweet Jewett City, Conn 

Smith S. Sweet Providence, R.I 

H. B. Tompkins Newport, " 

Dr. Henry E. Turner 

Gov. C. C. VanZandt " " 

Rev. E. F. Watson Wakefield. " 

Mrs. Dr. Watson Newport, " 

John Hazard Watson " " 

Walter Watson Wakefield, " 

Mrs. William A. Whaley Newport, R. I 

Mrs. Elizabeth W. Wilbour Newport, R. I 




THE ev^iI^SHbulljetiE 

THE NSiIi:i^Ni^i^Ss^i^^ 

(So.Cali.d) ''"oTors' Lal»T"* ff"""'*' ^"^ 

Long-tiiri^ t-rarorau icnign talliHg by the 
"Rhode Island Sweets" a Penal Offence, - 
Pnnishable with Fine and Imiirisontnent. 

-■';-;„ *" ''or of thp Torir- ' 

8um:ng manner at different tiir- .. 
visi:3 to me. Dr. Sweet is the- 
It rested in his wcn-k, .and pereeiN 
waa, also, he entertained me in 
(jHe seems to have no bitter feel'- 
j^for the doctors, although he 
I their oj)position to hini. 
I Y6u see that Mr.- Hazard's 
l:^horonshJy aroused me, and 
leelasif I could turn public le> 
ao doiijg I could awaken the 
proper sense of their situ 
think how many almost b' 
pies there are from the -^ 
fracture, that of the thigh-b'^ * 
of our Northern doctor's 
more cases of that ki'-'" „ 
ISC'-'- of tbp h- 





iiiiiliiii II